


Ben Junior

by RCs Many Posts (Parker4131970)



Category: due South
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2018-01-01 07:37:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 40,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1042134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parker4131970/pseuds/RCs%20Many%20Posts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After finding a teenage boy stealing Maggie sets out to help him find hs father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 No one knew what it was like to be Ben. The thirteen year old boy wanted to be like the rest of his class so badly. All he wanted was a mother and a father. Neither of them had to be a brain surgeon or a millionaire, just parents. From the time he could remember his mother had been dragging him from one place to another. He barely settled into a school before it was time to leave. Early on he figured what his mom did for a living, she stole things. Every time the news reported a bank robbery or armored truck heist, they moved to a new town.

“Mom, why do we move so often?” Ben asked when he was eight. His mother had took him by the shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. He could still remember how her dark, thick curls felt when she hugged him.

“We aren't like other people, Sweetie, that's why we move so often.” She kissed his cheek and smiled. Ben hadn't understood what that meant exactly. Not until he saw his mother's picture on a wanted add in an old, Alaskan Post Office. At ten years old he read the information written on the flier.

Victoria Metcalf, wanted for bank robbery. Ben had taken the flier down and put it in his jacket's inside pocket. He kept it in his back pack, along with everything else he didn't want to lose when he moved the next time.

The boy pulled a pocket knife from inside his motorcycle boot as he crouched beside the four wheel pickup sitting in the back of the parking lot, a canvas back pack bouncing on his back. Expertly, the boy picked the lock on the dirty Ford. The truck had been around since before the boy was a twinkle in his mother's eye, breaking in wasn't rocket science. Once inside, the young thief riffled around for spare change or anything handy he could sell at the pawn shop. An often used, well polished gun hung in the gun rack across the back window. Chunks of dirt and gravel littered the floor board as the thief crouched inside the ratty, Ford cab. Blood and chewing tobacco stank up the Indian blanket upholstery covering the bench seat. From the depths of the compartment glistened a new hunting knife, it's blade sheathed in a hand stitched case. The teen shoved it in his hip pocket. A leather, bi-fold wallet laying in the glove box held several, large bills. Quickly, the thief shoved them into his jeans and began to crawl out.

“Hey, what are you up to, boy?” A deep, ominous voice asked from behind the thirteen year old's back as his feet hit the pavement, the truck's running boards knee high on him. He turned around and grinned innocently up at a mountain man who looked like one of the local grizzlies. The boy took off on foot, weaving his way through vehicles in the parking lot.

“Maggie, send your dog after that kid, he was in my truck.” The mountain man shouted at the petite, blonde behind him. With a keen whistle and a motion, the white dog took off after the kid. “Thanks, Maggie, you've trained that wolf mutt your brother gave you real good.” The Royal Canadian Mounted Police woman smiled as she began running behind her dog. The white dog with caramel markings took the running boy down easily, felling him in a stretch of grass near the road. Dog and boy skidded to a stop in three inches of mud, going feet over head as they hit.

“Stop, Aurora, that's enough.” Maggie took her dog by the collar and began rubbing her between the ears in her favorite spot. It was the quickest way to calm her down after a chase.

“Just wait until I tell my case worker what your dog did, I could have gotten rabies or something.” The thirteen year old boy looked up at Maggie, half his face covered in mud. Two-thirds of the boy was caked in dark brown mud. The lady Mountie raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“What were you doing in Mr. Franklin's truck, young man?” She helped the mud covered teen to his feet as he struggled to free himself and his back pack of the sucking mud.

“None of your business, Santa Claus.” Anger flared in the teen's green eyes.

“As a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, I'm making it my business, what were you doing in that pick up truck?” Maggie took the boy by the ear, dragging him yelping toward the parking lot where Henry Franklin stood watching the whole scene.

“What do you think, lady.” The boy groused.

“Are you missing anything, Mr. Franklin?” The lady in red asked, tightening her grip as her captive squirmed to be free.

“Yea, the kid took the hunting knife my wife bought and cleaned out my wallet.” Two, dark, beady eyes stared at the boy as he wiped mud from his face. Maggie unlatched the Ford's tailgate and pulled the kid's back pack off his back. Roughly, she pulled his fleece lined coat off, heedless of his protests. The lady Mountie let go of the juvenile’s ear so he could dump his pockets. Out came the wad of cash and the hunting knife.

“Hey, that's my knife, you red witch.” The kid protested.

“Then your wife calls you _'Sugar Britches'_ eh?” Mr. Franklin pulled the knife out to show Maggie the engraving on the blade.

“That's a fine looking weapon you have there, Mr. Franklin, where did Bertha order it?” That launched an conversation about where the best place to order firearms would be. The kid saw an opportunity to run. Aurora bared her three inch fangs and growled deep in her throat.

“I don't recommend that, young man, she's infinitely faster than you are.” Maggie rubbed her companion between the ears. With a sigh, the kid stood still while the lady Mountie took the mountain man's statement before escorting her captive to the four wheel drive cruiser beside the Ford.

“Alright, young man, you're going to head quarters with me, if you want to help yourself you'll be more cooperative, starting with telling me your name.” Maggie threw a spare blanket she kept in the four wheel drive across the seat for her passenger to sit on. She didn't want a ton of mud on the clean upholstery. White dog hair was bad enough to clean up after.

“Ben.” He answered sullenly, staring out the window.

“Hmm, I have a half brother named Ben, I haven't seen him in while.” She smiled at the thought of her older brother. His half wolf companion had sired her own best friend, Aurora. As if on cue, the lady dog poked her pink nose between the seats to look out the front window.

“Big deal.” Ben grouched, crossing his arms over his chest, mud and all.

“What's your last name, Ben?” Maggie shoved Aurora back so she could see to back up.

“Might as well not have one, my father is no where to be seen and my mother is a criminal.” He answered, annoyed at having been caught.

“A criminal, what is she in prison for, Ben?” Concern clouded Maggie's Arctic blue eyes as she looked at the boy beside her.

“She robs banks.” Ben sighed, wishing he were anywhere else in the world. “They caught her driving the get away car when she ran over a spike strip and shredded the tires, now she's in prison.” The lady Mountie didn't speak for a moment. She couldn't imagine what a life this child had had.

“What about your father, Ben, where is he?” Maternal instinct told her there was no father in the picture.

“I got a letter from my _mother_ , my father is living in Chicago, she never told him about me.” The boy spat his answer out, his dark brows drawn over his green eyes like storm clouds.

“Do you know where he is, what he does for a living, Ben, maybe you could live with him.” Maggie suggested.

“All Mom sent was a picture.” Ben pulled his backpack out of the back floor board and pulled out a dog eared, worn photo. A red light stopped traffic so Maggie took the photo from Ben. In it stood a young man; tall, broad shouldered with a happy smile. A white, self satisfied looking wolf sat on the floor beside him. As pale as she was, Maggie turned a shade lighter.

“Benton.” She gasped, surprised to see her brother in the picture. Turning the photo she saw his full name in a flowing, feminine hand. “Oh dear.” Maggie gave it back to the boy.

“What's wrong, is he wanted for something too?” The light turned from red to green but Maggie didn't move. As color blind as she was, Aurora knew the light had changed. She pressed a cold, wet nose against her master's arm.

“What exactly did your mother tell you about your father, Ben?” Maggie pushed the accelerator down slowly on the eight cylinder, four wheel drive.

“Nothing, just that he doesn't know about me and sent this picture.” Ben looked at the decade old image and wondered why the cop was acting so strange. “Do you recognize him or something, what'd he do, murder someone?” The kid shrugged, he wouldn't be surprised if his father were a murderer.

“No, no, nothing like that, where are you living?” The lady Mountie took a deep breath as she drove slowly toward headquarters.

“Fitzgerald Children's Home.” Ben hit his head hard against the back of the high seat. Maggie had to get hold of her brother and quickly.

**Scene Break**

Ray Kowalski plopped his skinny butt down on the roller seat and grabbed the cold, coffee cup from it's usual, handy place. He'd been sitting behind the Lieutenant's desk for three months and still didn't like it. He missed being out on the streets, solving cases and making sure his ass was covered. It had been so much simpler being a detective. Now he had to try and keep the commissioner happy, deal with the detectives and handle all the paperwork. Lt. Walsh sent him a post card from Florida, wishing him the best. Ray groaned every time he looked at the sandy, white beach with a bikini clad blonde leaned back on a towel. When the phone rang he let it ring three times before answering.

“Kowalski here,” He barely kept from snarling. “Turnbull, oh, sorry, nothin' just sittin here eatin another roll of Tums, why?” Ray rubbed his eyes, tired already and it wasn't ten o'clock yet. “Tell Fraser I'll meet him at twelve, OK.” The lanky, blond Mountie was as annoying as he always had been. Twelve years and he hadn't changed his personality one bit. He had however gotten used to the good, Chicago, deep dish pizza and spread his girth. In his late thirties, Turnbull had had to begin working out to meet RCMP regulations. He'd already set his buttons over as much as was allowed according to regulations and they still bulged.

_**Two hours later …** _

Ray sat quietly at the Chinese restaurant drinking coffee and watching ladies walk by out the window. He'd been there for fifteen minutes, waiting on Fraser. The Canadian ambassador's top aide was as punctual as he'd ever been.

“Hello, Ray, glad you could meet me for lunch.” Harsh, spring sunlight highlighted the strand of gray at the Mountie's temples. If you didn't know where to look, you'd miss it entirely.

A petite, Asian lady waddled toward them, order pad in hand and two menus. She looked like she'd been cooking since the Great Wall of China was constructed. Fraser smiled politely, greeting the lady in her native tongue- Mandarin Chinese.

“Do you know what you want, Fraser?” Ray asked, wondering why his long time friend even bothered to look at the menu handed to him. They both knew what the place had to offer.

“Not yet, Ray, why don't you order first.” Fraser skimmed the menu, trying to decide what he felt like eating. Ray ordered the same thing he always did and a coffee refill. Fraser on the other hand began ordering, telling the waitress exactly what he wanted in great detail.

“Geesh, Fraser, you order like a woman, they already know you like your noodles drained.” Ray leaned back against the booth seat's black, leather back.

“I'm sorry, Ray, they wait on so many customers during the day, I can't possibly expect them to remember every detail of my specific order.” The Mountie acted mildly offended at his friend's criticism, his accent making 'sorry' rhyme with story.

“Ah, never mind me, I'm just grouchy 'cause the commissioner is breathin' down my neck.” Ray gave Fraser the rundown on his situation as they waited for their meals to arrive. As always, they ended up solving crimes together, despite Ray's recent promotion.

“I received an e-mail from Maggie earlier today,” Ray's eyes perked up at the mention of his best friend's younger, half sister. They'd had an on-again- off-again relationship for the last several years. Neither of them had been willing to give up their duties to join the other. Mostly they spent vacation and holiday time together. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it seemed to work for them.

“How's she doin' ?” The new lieutenant asked, hoping it was news that she'd quit the RCMP and had decided to move south.

“She's fine, she says she's coming down for a few days and has a surprise for me,” Fraser smoothed his eye brow with his thumb nail, still wondering why she'd been so vague in the e-mail.

“Ah, probably just deer jerky, elk steaks, pickled bear brains 'er somethin' else you only eat in Canada.” Just the thoughts of the foods Fraser had insisted he try made Ray shudder. Taking a year off to go exploring in the Yukon had been the adventure of a lifetime, but the southern cop had been glad to get back to his McDonald's soy hamburgers and preservative laden french fries.

“Perhaps, she wrote that she'd be in on Thursday, we'll find out then.” Fresh, crab Rangoon wafted toward the pair as their waitress shuffled up, tray in hand.

_**Thursday ....** _

People filled the airport, pushing and shoving to get through customs. It was the most unhappy place Maggie had ever been. She was thankful that she'd packed light. Her pack fit snugly against her back as she _'pardon me'_ and ' _thank you kindly-ied_ ' her way through the line. Ben struggled to keep up with his temporary guardian. She may have been shorter legged but she could move fast.

“Hey, wait, Maggie.” Ben puffed out a breath of air as he caught up to his aunt.

“I hope Aurora made it through customs alright, she has the most dreadful temper when she's cooped up.” Nothing seemed to perturb the lady Mountie, except her dog. Watching them together was something Ben couldn't explain. They seemed to understand each other. He heard Maggie talking to the dog as if she were a person.

“She's doing better than I am, slow down a little will you.” The boy leaned his hands on his knees to rest a moment.

“When I was your age I trained a dog sled team, we were up at three in the morning and then I walked four miles to school and back into the Inuit village down stream, hard work is in your blood, Ben, embrace it.” She smiled at the boy. He raised one skeptical eye brow, not sure how this could be one of his blood relatives. Before Ben could muster his strength, Maggie had begun marching toward customs and the exit.

**Scene Break**

“Why can't we take a cab again?” Ben asked, feeling cross as usual.

“It's only a few more blocks, we'll be there before you know it.” Maggie trotted on down the street, Aurora leading the way, sniffing everything along the way. Twenty minutes later they arrived at the Canadian Consulate. Turnbull stood watch outside. His light eyes never wavered as he stood stock still.

“Is Fraser in, Turnbull?” Maggie asked, knowing he wouldn't verbally answer. “Thank you kindly.” Ben looked up at the human statue, wondering how Maggie figured out an answer. Across the street a church bell began chiming loudly. On the last chime Turnbull turned, catching his superior officer's younger sister before she went inside.

“He's in a meeting with Mr. Gordon, but he should be finished in half an hour, would you care to join me in a cup of tea, with crumpets and jam?” The thought of food perked the Mountie's face up.

“That sounds wonderful, thank you kindly.” Maggie let him open the door for her as she and her dog waltzed through. Turnbull disappeared inside before Ben could make it up the stairs. He stared at the old paintings on the wall along the hallway beyond the entrance. Hearing him, Turnbull introduced himself with his usual exuberance.

“I'm Constable Fraser's son, Ben.” The boy shrugged, moving a strand of dark hair out of his green eyes.

“Oh, but Constable Fraser doesn't have any children.” Turnbull insisted.

“He does now.” Ben scoffed. Turnbull blinked blandly, not sure of what to do exactly. After a moment of awkward silence he said, “Let me show you to the drawing room and I'll let Fraser know you're here, then I'll bring tea for everyone.” Turnbull opened the sliding doors to a very ornate room used mostly to greet foreign dignitaries. Fraser's sister qualified as an honored guest in the junior Mountie's book. It was always nice to see someone from the mother land.

Fraser wrote down the list of details to finish before the ambassador to Ecuador arrived as his boss ticked them off. He'd been working for Meg Thatcher's replacement for the last decade and still missed the Ice Princess. Mr. Gordon was a consummate professional but lacked the personality to actually inspire anything other than formality. When Turnbull poked his head into the office Fraser saw the excited smile on his face. He didn't have to tell Fraser that Maggie was in the building, the junior Mountie's face did. Twenty minutes later he walked into the drawing room to see two familiar faces. Fraser felt the familiarity more than saw it in the boy sitting beside Maggie, eating a crumpet.

“Maggie, you look well.” Fraser took his sister's hand in both of his. Her hand felt like a child's compared to his. Diefenbaker trotted over to where Aurora sat beside the fireplace and began sniffing. After saying hello he settled down beside his daughter and took in the humans.

“Fraser, I'd like to introduce you to Ben Metcalf, he's Victoria's son.” He searched the boy's face, traces of his mother becoming evident. Fraser saw her dark hair, her regal bearing and Roman nose. Above that nose he saw his own crystalline eyes.

“Victoria's son.” Words were hard to come by. Fraser felt his chest tighten and his mouth go dry.

“Yeah, the bank robber, the one in jail.” Ben handed the man he knew to be his father the letter his mother had sent him from prison five weeks earlier. Inside he read her flowing handwriting.

_Dear Ben,_

_This is hard for me to write. I've had nothing but time to think about life; mine and yours. You're a fine, young man who doesn't deserve the way I've raised you. Your father, Benton, would have raised you in Chicago so much better than I ever could. He's the finest officer the RCMP has to offer. I should have told the both of you about each other. I'd already lost Benton, I couldn't bear to lose you too. Some day I want you to find Benton in Chicago and get to know the kindest man I've ever had the honor to know. He'll show you how to become the man I know you can become, a man who gives his whole heart and one who stands for what is right, no matter what. Love, Mom_

Fraser read the letter twice before moving on to the picture enclosed in the envelope. It was one from his trunk, one Benton had sent to his father before his death. Robert Fraser would have been delighted to know he had a grandson. It had disappeared from Fraser's things when Victoria left Chicago on the run.

“I knew your mother, Victoria,” The Mountie began, his voice cracking.

“Yeah, in the Biblical sense apparently.” Ben snickered. Maggie jabbed her nephew in the ribs with one stiff finger.

“I knew Victoria, there was no, she never said anything about, about you.” Fraser wanted to shake his head, to clear the cobwebs out.

“She never told me about you either, it was Maggie here that figured out the connection.” The teen hitched his thumb at the lady Mountie standing beside him.

“How did find him, where?” Fraser sat down in an arm chair, trying to steady his reeling mind.

“He was caught stealing out of Mr. Franklin's truck, Ben had his hunting knife and the contents of his wallet.” Maggie explained. Concern snapped Fraser back to reality.

“Stealing, oh dear.” How many times had Fraser dealt with boys just this age who'd stolen? Now the shoe was on the other foot. “What ever for?”

“I wanted to get away from the children's home, no one misses me there.” Ben shoved the rest of his crumpet into his mouth, swallowing loudly.

“Victoria, your mother,” Fraser paused, trying to wrap his head around the idea of having a son, of his one weakness having _his_ child, “her letter sounds like she cares for you.” The Mountie looked at his sister, both of them recalled how Bob Fraser had reacted to the revelation of having a daughter.

“If she cared so much then why did she keep on driving for bank robbers, holding up armored trucks, I'm in the eighth grade and been in seven different schools.” A spark ignited in the boy's hard, green eyes as he spoke. Fraser felt the hurt in his voice. Victoria was many things but Fraser wondered how maternal she was.

“I knew that woman was still going to be trouble, never gone.” Fraser sat up like someone had goosed him in the ribs. He hadn't heard that familiar voice in a dozen years. Looking around it took a moment for Fraser to find the old man. He found him, standing in the corner, wearing his red uniform and chopped off, funeral Stetson. Fraser looked to Maggie, hoping she saw him too. The wild, excited expression in her Arctic blue eyes told him she did.

“My mother is not _'that woman'_ , you old geezer.” Ben saw both Fraser and Maggie shaking their heads at him. Turnbull jumped on the switch in conversation.

“Victoria's been gone for nearly fourteen years, Son.” The junior Mountie looked distressed, his brows furrowed and his lips pulled into a thin line. A quiet voice in the hallway caught Fraser's attention, it was a good excuse to send Turnbull out of the room.

“I believe Mr. Gordon called for you, Turnbull.” Fraser motioned toward the door. Like Pavlov's dog, the blond Mountie rushed to the ambassador's office, leaving his compatriots to talk. Once the door was firmly closed Fraser got to his feet.

“What are you doing here, Dad?” Fraser spoke first, his eyes wide and wild as he watched the old ghost saunter into the middle of the room as if her were commanding the entire Canadian army.

“I came to help, Son, seems you have a problem on your hands.” Bob Fraser looked down at his grandson, studying the boy's face.

“Another relative I don't know?” Ben looked to Maggie for an explanation.

“I'm your granddad, my boy, Robert Fraser, formerly of the RCMP, just like these two.” With a stubby finger Robert pointed to his two, grown children who both wore formal, red serge uniforms.

“If you're retired then why are you wearing that red, Santa suit?” Ben pointed out, wishing he'd never laid eyes on Mr. Franklin's nasty, Ford truck. Benton began massaging the bridge of his nose, laughter making his shoulders quake.

“He's the reason I came to Chicago initially, I came searching for the man that killed him, eventually I discovered that it was his partner, Gerard.” Fraser would have continued telling the story but his father waved him off.

“You all are so weird.” Ben sat back against the floral printed couch, arms crossed across his chest. Annoyed, the boy began toying with his mildly imperfect eyetooth with the tip of his tongue. Maggie had seen him do that often since she'd taken him under her wing. Regardless of parentage, he was troubled. Ben had been forced to grow up too soon.

“You still haven't told me why you were found stealing from Mr. Gordon, Ben.” The Mountie called the boy by name, feeling the taste of unfamiliarity on his tongue. For a moment Fraser wondered if Victoria had named him Benton or just Ben.

“I told you, to get as far away from the children's home as I could, I hate that place.” The spark in the boy's eyes revived.

“Were you trying to runaway from the children's home to travel to Chicago, Ben?” Maggie's voice spoke softly, with the care and concern of a mother.

“What do you think.” Ben answered sullenly, not looking at anyone in the room.

“When I was a boy, growing up in the high Yukon, I would often wander the woods around my grandparents' house, hoping to see my father's dog sled team coming down the path, my mother had died and my grandparents did the best they could, but I longed to see my father, to know he loved me.” Bob Fraser harrumphed as he stood by the window, looking at the barren trees outside. “It's only natural.” Benton gazed steadily into the boy's eyes. A knock on the door announced Turnbull's return.

“Constable Fraser, sorry to disturb you, but you have a phone call.” Turnbull spoke in a loud whisper as he stuck his head in through the sliding door.

“Thank you, Turnbull, take a message for me, please.” Fraser dismissed the younger Mountie.

“Forgive me, Sir, but it's long distance, it's a Ms. Victoria Metcalf, I thought you may wish to speak with her.” Fraser motioned for Ben to follow him to the small office down the hall from the drawing room. The boy slowly rose to his feet, annoyed and kinda worried about talking to his mother after so long.

“Fraser here,” the Mountie listened to the woman on the other end, the one that had a way of blurring his usually unerring vision.

“Fraser, this is Victoria,” She paused, not knowing what to say.

“Why didn't you tell me you were with child, Victoria?” Benton didn't sound as angry as she'd expected, but then she considered the source.

“I knew you'd search Heaven and Hell to catch me, Ben.” he could hear the knowing in her voice. They knew each other better than anyone else, knew how to punch the buttons no one ever found. Benton felt the pain of her leaving as much as if it had been the day before, not fourteen years ago.

“Yes, I suppose I would have. I would have stood beside you.” Fraser turned his back to Ben, speaking low.

“Hard to stand with someone when you're lying flat of your back in the hospital wounded, I hope your partner has improved his aim.” Victoria heard the silence on the other end and wished she hadn't said anything. “Is Ben there, I called the home to check on him and they told me that a relative had taken him to see his father.” Talking about Ben was safe, it didn't open old wounds.

“Yes, here he is.” Fraser handed the desk telephone to the boy, his worry evident on his thin face.

“Hi, Mom,” It had been too long since he'd heard his mother's voice. She only got so much phone time and usually all they could get through to each other was an _'I love you'._

“Yeah, I met my aunt Maggie first, she's the one that brought me down here, she's real nice, she has a dog that's part wolf.” Fraser listened as the boy's voice gained excitement. He wondered if he'd sounded like that as a boy. They talked for a moment before Ben said good-bye and handed the phone back to Fraser.

“Benton, take care of him, there are people out there that would like to get their hands on our boy, they may think he knows where some of the money is, I was wrong not to tell you about him, as much as I love both of you, I wanted my freedom more and I knew you'd find me, no matter where I ran.” Fraser took a deep breath before speaking again. The old pain had crept back in, feeling like his body did when the weather changed for the worse and his knife and gunshot wounds ached.

“I'll take care of him, Victoria, you have my word.” She knew that the Mountie's word was absolute, nothing would stop him. Fraser hung up and pasted on a carefree expression.

“So what happens now?” Ben paused, unsure of what to call the man standing in front of him.

“I will have to see about that, Ben, right now I'll escort you and Maggie to my apartment.” Fraser smiled, looking him in the eye. Together they walked down the hall to the drawing room where Maggie and Turnbull were discussing a Curling match on television. Aurora and Diefenbaker sat in front of the set, just as interested in the cold sport as the humans.

“Constable Turnbull, I have to leave the consulate for a while, I'll be back this afternoon.” Fraser repeated himself, tapping the junior officer on the shoulder.

“Oh, yes, Sir, I'll inform Mr. Gordon.” The younger Mountie snapped off the thirty-six inch, flat, plasma screen and stood at attention, his brass buttons straining to contain their burden.

**Scene Break**

Fraser walked behind his sister along the broken, cement sidewalk. Diefenbaker and Aurora trailed along behind him, exploring the world through their sensitive noses. The constable let his thoughts drift as he walked. He didn't know what to do with a child in the best of times, but what was he to do with a thirteen year old boy? Benton wanted a family of his own. Instead he had a best friend, a wolf and a half sister. Life was comfortable, routine, without a family waiting at home. It was also lonely as hell. Benton would never have considered that his biological clock ticked, much less that he had one at all. Instead he kept himself busy working cases with Ray and attending to his duties at the consulate.

“Benton, do you hear me?” Maggie smiled, waving her hand before Fraser's glazed eyes.

“Pardon?” The Mountie snapped to attention.

“Would you like to introduce Ben to Ray before we get to your apartment?” the lady Mountie studied her half brother, wondering where his mind had taken him off to so far away.

“Yes, right, I suppose Ray would enjoy meeting you.” Fraser took a deep breath before speaking, as if the extra oxygen cleared his mind.

“Who's Ray, another crazy relative?” Ben rolled his eyes, tiring of the show and tell round his aunt insisted on.

“Ray Kowalski is a friend of ours, he's a police lieutenant here in Chicago.” Fraser answered dryly. Ben just rolled his eyes and followed along.

Fraser led the way through the newly remodeled police precinct. After more than twenty years, the place had been painted something other than mint green. Fresh, butter cream walls radiated warmth in the mid-morning light through high windows. The bull pen had changed very little over the years. New, flat computer screens shone in uniform rows down both sides of the large room. With a nod to several detectives, Fraser made his way to the lieutenant's office and pecked on the door. As usual, Ray sat behind the desk, telephone parked on his ear and a cup of coffee in his hand. When he looked up his expression eased a bit. With his free hand, Ray motioned the Canadian into the office. Following him was Maggie, two dogs and a teenage boy. Maggie and the dogs were expected, but the boy threw the lieutenant for a loop.

“Yes, Sir, I'll do that. You have a good day.” The middle-aged detective feigned courtesy with his superiors. Hanging up he ran a hand over his face as if to clear the bad experience from his mind.

“Who have we here?” Ray stood up and walked around the desk to hug the lady RCMP officer warmly. Maggie wore her hair shorter than the first time they'd met but hadn't changed much since then. Her blue eyes still had a way of giving the detective the warm fuzzies every time she glanced his way while her smile made him lose all sense of time.

“Ray, I would like you to meet Ben, my son.” Fraser watched his best friend do a double take as he held his hand out for the boy to shake. Mouth agape, Ray asked,

“Son, how, when?” Ray strung a few more interrogatives into the sentence before Fraser could answer.

“I told you of Victoria Metcalf?” Fraser didn't have to say anymore, Ray had gathered the rest from what Fraser and Francesca had told him. A dozen things crossed the new lieutenant's mind as he looked more closely at the boy. Sure enough, the dark hair and bone structure betrayed his parentage, but still, it was hard to imagine Fraser having a child, or doing anything that having a child required for that matter.

“Yeah, that chick that robbed that bank, the one Ray Vecchio shot you in the back for.” Ray summed it up rather nastily. Fraser winced at the mention of the old wound that still gave him trouble from time to time.

“Yes, for lack of a better summary.” The constable drew himself to his full height, one thumb nail smoothing an eyebrow. It was one of the few signs Fraser had to show his annoyance.

“My mom shot you in the back?” Ben's eyes widened in awe. He'd never known someone who'd been shot before.

“No, I was running along side the L-train, in an attempt to catch up to your mother. Detective Ray Vecchio, who later went into deep cover for the FBI, thought mistakenly that Victoria had a handgun as she stood on the bottom step of the moving train. His aim went amiss, resulting in a severe gunshot wound to my eighth thoracic vertebra region.” Fraser explained in his usual, wordy fashion. It took a while to get used to, but most people did.

“Wow, that stinks.” Ben shrugged, a new respect evident in his tone. “Do you do that kind of thing everyday?” The three cops looked at each other with knowing expressions.

“At least once a week it feels like.” Ray answered. Wherever Fraser went he had a tendency to find trouble. His best intentions usually ended up leading him and whoever accompanied him into unusual and often dangerous situations.

“So, is the kid here for the ten cent tour or is this a permanent arrangement?” The lieutenant sat down, motioning for his company to have seats as well.

“I have a lot to consider before making any decision about what's best for Ben.” Benton answered, his thoughts already a million miles away.

“Hello, the kid is right here and he can hear you.” Ben interjected, annoyed at being talked about while still in the room.

“My apologies.” Fraser grimaced. It was quite a quandary.

**Scene Break**


	2. Skills

 Ray hated to watch Maggie leave even knowing that she could be staying in the city for a few days. Her Arctic blue eyes lingered on his still handsome face before she turned to follow Fraser out. Part of him wanted to tell the commissioner where to put his Meth task force and leave the office so he and the lady Mountie could grab a burger at the corner restaurant. Ray was too close to retirement to pull such brash stunts. He kicked himself for ever taking Lt. Welsh's job in the first place. With a resigned growl, the new lieutenant sat down and began planning a strategy to curb methamphetamine labs in his district of Chicago.

“So what's the deal with you and that Ray guy, Aunt Maggie tells me you work at the consulate as like a personal assistant or something.” Ben asked as he trudged along behind Fraser and Maggie but ahead of Diefenbaker and Aurora. Cars whizzed by on their way to a million different destinations. Some of them were as old as the Mounties while others were younger than Ben. Fraser slowed his pace to think for a second.

“Over the years Ray and I have solved a number of cases together.” Fraser tried to piece together a more concise answer as he tugged on his uniform jacket.

“How did you and Ray start solving cases is what I'm asking.” Unbeknownst to Ben, he'd opened a can of worms by asking. As like her brother as she was, Maggie knew better than to ask an open ended question. Telling the tale of meeting Ray Kowalski took the entire fifteen minute walk to the constable's three story apartment building.

“Wow, it looks like a monk lives here.” Ben walked into the small, third floor apartment and dropped his bag beside the door. An old radio sat on a card table by the one and only window in the living room. Dark, navy blue curtains covered the three foot by three foot window. A short, brown loveseat and a high backed, leather arm chair were the only seats available in the living room. An almanac calendar hung on a thumbtack by the front door beneath a framed picture of Fraser's parents. Ben eased over to the picture as Maggie set her backpack down beside the door.

“If you're hungry I could make something.” Fraser offered as he looked into the ancient, avocado green refrigerator an equally aged gas stove. The kitchen was small, best suited to one person at a time. Dief's dish sat beside the table, under the window leading out onto the fire escape. Looking at the apartment one got the feeling that it was worn or from a bygone era. Fraser lived alone, using the appliances provided to the apartment. It was far from the primitive cabin his father had left him when he died. As long as everything was in working order the Mountie figured it would do just fine.

“I'm not hungry, but Ben may want a snack.” Maggie answered, walking in to the kitchen with Aurora's food dish in one hand and a bag of food in the other. She set them down and came to stand beside her half brother as he stared into the fridge.

“So, what do you think?” The petite blonde asked, studying Fraser's reaction.

“I think I will have to go to the grocery this evening before dinner.” Fraser closed the green monstrosity's door and began rummaging in the cabinets.

“I didn't mean that and you know it, Benton.” Maggie leaned against the stove, her arms crossed over her chest, just the way Fraser stood so often. Closing the cabinet door, he turned to look at her.

“I am completely caught off guard, I never suspected, there was never a reason to suspect Victoria was with child.” Fraser looked out the window beyond the fire escape. After so long he had almost forgotten how she felt in his arms. Passion and longing had both grown cold in the transplanted Canadian. No one had managed to revive the embers to their full glory in all those years. Fraser had given up hope that anyone would.

“This could be good for you, Benton, he needs a steady, caring influence and you need someone around besides Diefenbaker to care for.” Maggie laid a hand on his shoulder. In the last decade or so they'd known each other, Maggie and Fraser had gotten as close as half siblings can become. It took one to know one the best and Robert Fraser's children were two of the same kind.

“I hardly have the skills to raise a teenager, Maggie.” He lamented. It was hard enough to keep Diefenbaker in line.

“It doesn't take skills, it takes caring.” She argued. 

  **Scene Break**


	3. Victoria In Prison

 Ben stood looking at the picture of Fraser's parents as they stood together outside a small, white church. Uniformed Mounties stood in rigid formation behind the man he knew to be Robert Fraser. A few people dressed in the latest fashions of the mid-1950's. The men looked stern faced and proud while the women had pleasant smiles on their faces. To Ben it might as well have been a picture from a million years ago and even more miles.

“That's my mother, right there.” Maggie pointed to a lady in the background with light hair and light eyes. She'd seen the boy looking intently at the old photograph and wondered what he thought.

“Yeah, you told me that Fraser was your half brother.” The boy looked into the wistful face of the only aunt he knew he had.

“He sure is.” A brighter, more cheerful expression lit up Maggie's face.

“Did you want a brother?” The lady Mountie hadn't thought about that. Growing up as an only child seemed natural to her.

“Growing up I guess I knew my mother wouldn't remarry, so brothers and sisters weren't a possibility.”

“I never knew what my mother would do next.” Ben wandered into the bedroom in the back of the apartment. A narrow, twin sized bed lay made as neatly as any hospital's. Beside it a dark, wooden chest of drawers sat without so much as change laying on the top. A calendar hung above it, a red sunrise giving the room it's most color. A dark curtain blocked out what afternoon sunshine that had managed to filter into the city through tall buildings and traffic signals.

“Maggie, I have to report back to the consulate for a few hours.” Fraser walked briskly into the bedroom, his face bordering on sour. He hated carrying the cellular device Mr. Gordon insisted he keep handy.

“Ben and I will make ourselves at home then, we'll see you when you get home.” The lady in red watched him walk out the front door.

_**At the Canadian Consulate...** _

“Turnbull, good, you've pulled the files for the meeting with the Ecuadorian Consul.” Fraser clamped the manilla file folder under his arm and proceeded into the boss' office. Gordon sat at his desk, his dark gray suit jacket hanging on the back of the roller chair. He didn't look up from the computer screen when he heard his top aide enter quietly.

“Good afternoon, Sir, I've called the catering service about the dinner, they've sent an estimate, it should be in your email in-box now.” Fraser began ticking off the list of things he'd anticipated Mr. Gordon asking for.

“Thank you, Fraser, but that isn't why I've asked you here.” The Mountie stopped in his tracks. Fraser sensed a difference in Gordon's tone. “Have a seat.” As usual, Fraser remained standing. “Suit yourself, I've been informed that you have a visitor, the son of one of the criminals you've put in prison, one Victoria Metcalf.”

“Yes, Sir, but he's my son as well, you see...” Fraser stopped abruptly when Gordon threw up one hand to shush him. He had little patience for the Mountie's over explanatory habits.

“The Canadian government is keenly interested in the boy's mother, it seems a large sum of money was stolen from a bank in Yellow Knife belonging to a prominent politician. That sum has never been accounted for despite having Ms. Metcalf in custody.” Gordon stiffened his backbone, detesting such an unsavory assignment. What could you do when you're a peon in a large bureaucracy?

“Ben has little knowledge of Victoria's criminal background, Sir.” The stone cold gaze in Fraser's green eyes made Gordon chill to the bone. His superiors had already cast him in the role of the villain, so the ranking consul played the part through.

“Even so, he must know something of where she may have hidden the money, I've been instructed to ask you to question him about the matter.” Gordon tried to match his subordinate's intense gaze but found himself looking away. He had never seen animosity in Fraser or anything other than exemplary efficiency in his work and a few personality quirks.

“You're dismissed, Constable Fraser.” Gordon leaned back against his chair, a million things on his mind, the least of them being the dinner party for the Ecuadorian representatives. Fraser turned on his heel and walked quickly out of the office.

“Constable Fraser, you have a phone call on line three.” Turnbull announced before looking at the superior office. Rarely had Turnbull seen the kind of raw anger in Fraser's tight stance he saw when he walked out of Gordon's office. He started to ask what was wrong but thought better of it. Fraser just stalked off toward his office and snatched up the phone.

“Hello,” The single word bounded out with force.

“Benton, I called to ask if it would be alright to invite Ray to diner with us tonight.” Maggie asked hesitantly. He didn't know her half brother was capable of such a snarl.

“Diner, oh yes, that will be fine, should I pick up anything on the way home?” Fraser took a deep breath to settle himself down. He reminded himself that neither Maggie nor the boy had done anything for him to be angry about.

“No, Ben and I were just going to walk down to the market, Diefenbaker and Aurora could use a walk anyway.” As fussy as he was, Dief liked the lady Mountie _almost_ as well as he liked Fraser. Benton reminded her of where the spare key was hidden before saying good-bye and hanging up.

**Scene Break**

Victoria shuffled along the walkway between cells pushing the laundry cart like she did every Thursday. In the last six months, while in prison, she'd worked her way onto the work detail. Slowly but surely, she was beginning to accept her place in the criminal justice system. Some days she missed being able to walk through the mall, window shopping and eating whatever she chose. Other days the bank robber was glad to have a warm, dry, stable place to stay, without responsibilities or expectations.

“Hey Vic, how's life treatin' ya?” A friendly, black woman called out from inside her cell. Easily, the nearly six foot tall woman slid down off of the top bunk, landing on her feet.

“There have been better days.” The dull, emotionless look in her face spoke volumes.

“How's your boy doin' ?” She asked innocently. A tear came to Victoria's eye before she could turn away.

“Ah, honey, I'm sorry, what's goin' on?” The black woman's brown eyes looked down at her sadly.

“He stole a hunter's wallet and got caught by an RCMP officer.” It took the other woman a moment to remember what kind of officer that was.

“What'd they do with the little guy?” A hard eyed guard cleared his throat behind the curly haired inmate.

“I'll tell you later.” Victoria gathered the other woman's clothes and continued on her rounds. She was well acquainted with the inside of the prison, having done a ten year stretch before Ben was born.

“I'm sure he'll be fine, honey.” Those words hung in the air as the getaway driver walked on down the aisle. Victoria hoped and prayed Ben would turn out more like Fraser. She didn't want him to have the same kind of life she'd chosen for herself.

**Scene Break**

 


	4. Family Dinner

 Ray cleared his desk of paperwork and turned his cellphone to vibrate. It was much easier to ignore the commissioner that way. He had dinner plans with Maggie and wasn't about to let anything interrupt. Having the kid and Fraser there wasn't the most ideal of situations but it would simply have to do.

Closing and locking the office door, Ray hurriedly made his way to the waiting GTO, sitting in his special spot in the parking structure. A twinkle began to shine in his pale blue eyes as he looked at the black, highly polished work of art waiting for him. Turning the key in the ignition, the police lieutenant sat and listened to the smoothly idling engine. A few minutes later the American classic pulled up to Fraser's apartment building. Cars raced by as he stepped out of the vehicle, the last of the spring sun slipping behind a highrise building. A smile spread over Ray's face as he climbed to the stairs to his old friend's small apartment and knocked.

“Just a moment.” Ray's smile spread even wider when he heard Maggie's voice. Seeing her, he had to restrain himself from grabbing her up and planting kisses all over her face.

“You're just in time for dinner, Ray, come on in.” The petite, blonde beckoned him into the small living space.

“I brought dessert, hope everyone likes cheesecake.” Aurora and Diefenbaker both perked up at the smell of sweets.

“Welcome, Ray, glad to have you to dinner.” Fraser smiled, the laugh lines around his crystalline green eyes momentarily crinkling. Ben sat on the sofa, a pair of ear buds plunged deep into his ears as he sat bored stiff, waiting to eat. Ray waved as he headed into the eat-in kitchen. He smelled wonderfully prepared stir-fry simmering on the stove. Green peppers, red peppers, banana peppers, steak strips, and an array of spices made Ray's mouth water as he stepped closer.

“Glad to be here, how was your trip down?” Ray made small talk about her flight south as he watched Maggie finish preparing their meal.

“Ray, would you and Ben mind moving the table into the living room for this evening, there's more space for all of us in there.” The Mountie set plates and cups onto the Formica counter top out of the cabinet above the stove.

“Sure, no problem.” Ray began by pulling four, mismatched chairs into the living room.

“Why don't you clear the table, Ben.” The lieutenant spoke to the teen, who slowly pulled the ear buds from his ears and rose to his feet. “Don't get in any hurry there, kid, wouldn't want you to trip 'er anything.” Ray shook his head, wondering if this really was Fraser's son. Together they moved the sturdy, chrome and Formica table into the living room. A few minutes later Maggie brought the plates and flatware while Fraser carried in the stir fry, still sizzling from the stove top. Wafts of spicy peppers and frying meat assaulted everyone's nostrils as they made themselves comfortable around the table. Diefenbaker came and stood beside Fraser until the Mountie took notice of him.

“You aren't going to like it, you know peppers give you gas.” The senior Mountie waved the serving spoon as he spoke. The amber eyed wolf looked up at him, insisting on having some. Aurora stood beside him, her head on Fraser's knee.

“Oh, alright, but I warn you, you're sleeping on the fire escape it it gets too extreme.” Fraser took two, Styrofoam plates from the kitchen cabinet and dished out a serving for each canine.

“What is it with the two of you and those mutts, you all act like you've got some kind of psychic connection or something.” Ben wondered aloud, looking from Fraser to Maggie, who looked at each other.

“You kinda get used to it the more you're around them, kid.” Ray shrugged, having had a conversation or two with Dief himself, not that he'd actually admit it to anyone.

“I suppose I understand Diefenbaker because we have built a relationship of mutual trust. He knows I'll take care of him and I know he will, in turn, take care of me.” A satisfied grin pulled at his face. Ben just looked at him unconvinced.

“Ben did you wash up for dinner?” Maggie asked, changing the subject.

“No, did you?” He responded smartly. It didn't seem to phase any of the adults.

“Go wash them please.” The lady cop frowned, her light eyes as hard as diamonds. Reluctantly, Ben rose from the table and proceeded to the restroom.

“The kid's a real charmer there, Frase.” Maggie gave Ray a reproachful glare for his humor. Dinner was a quiet, rather awkward affair. Most of the time the adults carried the conversation, talking about their jobs. All of it sounded boring to the listening teen. No one mentioned Victoria or anything that might be upsetting. Deep within, Ben felt the anger rising. What was so wrong that no one would talk about it? Was it something wrong with him? Questions such as those had plagued the boy since he could remember.

Eventually, Ray and Maggie decided to go out for coffee, leaving Fraser and Ben alone in the apartment. Aurora stayed with Dief, both of them dozing in the kitchen. Without a television, the only sounds were police sirens, neighbors arguing and a baby crying. Ben sat with his headphones plugged in and a bland expression.

“Ben, tell me about your schooling, what are your grades like?” It was the only thing Fraser could think of to talk about. After repeating himself three times, Fraser reached over and pulled one of the ear buds out.

“Hey, that didn't feel so good.” Ben groused, his anger rising again as he stood up.

“You need to be more aware of your surroundings, I asked about school.” An authoritative tone in the Mountie's voice checked the boy's temper. Ben sat back down on the worn loveseat. He knew his mother would have yanked the ear buds out too.

“I go to school with the rest of them from the home, I do alright.” With a shrug, he began looking out the window to the right of the front door.

“Did Victoria, um, did your mother see that you attended school regularly?” Fraser felt wholly unprepared to take on a child, especially a teenager. He'd arrested serial killers, thieves, criminals of all kinds, but he'd never been responsible for anyone other than himself and Diefenbaker.

“Yeah, Mom made me go, everyday, like it or not.” Ben replied, rolling his eyes.

“Do you get along well with your mother, Ben?” Fraser leaned forward, studying the boy's reaction.

“I love Mom, okay, she may be a bad person, robbing banks and whatever, but she takes care of me, so you can back off now.” Ben crossed his arms over his chest and stared out the window again, he'd shut down. Fraser let him recede into his own world.

**Scene Break**

“Fraser, we're back, we got you a doughnut.” Ray called out as he and Maggie walked in around eleven. He felt ten years younger than when he'd woken up. An evening out with the lady Mountie had that effect on him.

“Ray, Ben is asleep.” She shushed him quickly, pointing to a curled form lying on the loveseat. Fraser lay on a roll away bed he'd borrowed, still awake and dressed in his red long johns.

“Oh, hello.” Fraser stood up quickly, his flannel blanket clutched in one hand.

“Hey, there Frase, sorry I kept your sister out past curfew.” The lieutenant grinned like a mischievous teenager. Maggie elbowed him and continued on her way inside.

“She doesn't have a curfew that I'm aware of.” Fraser looked around bewildered.

“What's going on?” Ben asked sleepily, raising up on one elbow to see all the adults standing in the living room. “Dude, full moon rising.” Fraser felt the draft as the boy spoke. Turning around like a dog chasing his tail, the Mountie checked the back flap of his long johns.

“Oh dear, this won't do at all.” Blanket still in hand, Fraser pulled it around him like a towel.

“Ray, I'll see you tomorrow.” With a quick, self-conscious kiss to the cheek, Maggie sent the lieutenant packing.

“Sorry I woke everyone up.” Ray grinned and left the apartment, whistling as he strode down the hall.

“You were out very late this evening, I trust you had a good time with Ray.” Fraser sat down on the roll away, his blanket wrapped securely around him. Maggie eyed her half brother, partially amazed at his over protection and partially annoyed. Her pale eyes caught the faint glimmer of the streetlight outside.

“Yes, Ray and I enjoyed ourselves.” She responded vaguely, her gaze narrowing.

“Very well, good night.” Fraser sank into the hard framed roll away.

“Good night, Aunt Maggie.” Ben mumbled as he tried to roll over on the love seat. A few minutes later the boy was asleep.

“Good night, Son.” Fraser whispered sadly.

**Scene Break**


	5. Mr. Gordon

 “What are your plans for today, Maggie?” Fraser asked, standing in the light from above the stove. Fluffy, scrambled eggs sat cooking in a cast iron skillet. Sausages fried in another, smaller skillet. Dief and Aurora stood waiting for their cut of the tempting meat.

“I thought maybe we would see a few of the tourist sights, maybe take in a baseball game.” The lady Mountie smiled, she'd never seen a game in person. It sounded good to Fraser, who wished he could take the time off to go with them.

“Is Ben up and ready yet?” Fraser glanced at his watch, anxious to be going.

“Yes, he's in the bathroom.” As if on cue, the boy walked down the hall and into the living room, his hair heading a million different directions.

“My word,” Fraser let slip as he shifted the sausages to a plate. Maggie elbowed him gently.

“Do I smell coffee?” Ben asked, shuffling to the kitchen table, his t-shirt askew and pajama bottoms sagging.

“No.” Maggie answered, without looking.

“Could I smell coffee?” Ben wheedled, his face upturned.

“No.” Maggie replied, still not looking around.

“Is there apple juice or something?” With a thud the boy sat down on a chair.

“I bought milk yesterday.” A glass appeared on the table before him, looking plain and nutritious and dull.

“The biscuit pone is ready, Benton, would you take it out of the oven for me, please?” Steam rose off the golden, fluffy and utterly delicious bread; a think of culinary beauty. It deserved butter and homemade, blackberry jam.

“You have to go in to the consulate, uh...” Ben didn't know what to call Fraser, he didn't seem like a father yet, he wasn't an uncle or anything.

“Yes, I have a million things to take care of for the dinner party with the Ecuadorian delegation.” A knot in Fraser's stomach tightened just a fraction. He dreaded having to manage the florists, the caterers, invitations, security details and anything else that Mr. Gordon deemed necessary.

“Do you think you could get off early, Fraser, we could all go to the baseball game.” Maggie asked, setting plates for them all on the table.

“I'll certainly try.” Fraser smiled, sounding optimistic, yet knowing he most likely wouldn't make it. Maggie eyed both Bens. Benton, her half brother, seemed a million miles away. Ben junior seemed disappointed. She knew would have to have an intervention.

As Fraser sat at the table, he took a moment to look at the two people eating with him and their canine companions. He had only learned of his half sister a dozen years earlier. Since then he'd become close to her. It was easy, Maggie lead the same kind of life he did, one dedicated to the RCMP. Separating himself from the force had always been a problem.

“Turnbull can handle the dinner, Son, take the day off, go have fun with the boy.” A familiar, annoying voice spoke from the living room.

“Mr. Gordon expects me to take care of the details personally, Dad.” Robert Fraser stood in the living room wearing a fur lined jacket and mittens. Maggie and Ben turned to see the old man standing casually eating an apple in the living room.

“Oh, that is nonsense and you know it, take the boy to the stadium, have a hotdog, catch a fly ball or something.” Robert Fraser spoke, his hands gesturing as he did. Arguing with his father was the only time Fraser had a cross word for anyone or anything. Frustrated, he began eating his breakfast, ignoring his father's presence.

“You have a stubborn streak just like your grandmother.” Exasperated, Robert Fraser walked into the bedroom, done haunting for the day. Maggie and Ben exchanged meaningful looks. Awkwardly the three took up where they'd left off eating. Abruptly, Fraser stood up to leave.

“I shall see you both this afternoon.” The Mountie twirled his Stetson around his index finger before walking out. It was going to be a long day chasing details for the Ecuadorian dinner party.

**Scene Break**

Mr. Gordon walked into the consulate, the smell of coffee and fresh baked cookies pleasantly assaulting his nostrils. He hadn't had the best night's sleep. The first thing the Chief Liaison Officer did not want to see was his ever attentive, fastidious junior liaison officer. His earnest, guileless, moon face made the nearly exiled Canadian want to scream.

“Good morning, Sir, here is your coffee, three sugars, hazelnut creamer and one ice cube, here is your correspondence and I took the liberty of collecting your dry cleaning.” Turnbull smiled, nodding profusely.

“Thank you, Turnbull.” Gordon growled, barely remaining civil. He didn't know what it was about the tall, blond Mountie that grated so badly on his nerves to the point of aggression. It was a daily struggle not to go stark, raving gonzo. As if Turnbull wasn't bad enough, there was his senior officer, the starched underwear wearing, Benton Fraser. Gordon gritted his teeth when he saw the wooden Indian of an assistant standing before his desk, clipboard in hand.

“Good morning, Sir, I've taken the liberty of booking _Pierre's Cuisine_ and ordering the wine.” Looking up, Fraser saw his boss still standing at the door, briefcase in hand. It was too early to be that efficient or that happy.

“Morning, Constable Fraser, leave the list on my desk, please.” Gordon straightened his pearl gray, silk tie, trying not to loosen it.

“Your boss called ten minutes ago, he said he would call back momentarily.” Fraser laid the sheaf of papers on Gordon's desk and excused himself.

“Fraser, have you spoken to Victoria Metcalf's son yet?” In mid-step the red serge clad officer turned. Gordon felt his heart beat quicken. The darkness and displeasure in Fraser's eyes reminded chief liaison officer of a wild animal in a cage.

“Ms. Metcalf's son is in my care, and as long as he is he will not be interrogated like a criminal or used as an informant.” A samurai sword doesn't have the edge that Fraser's voice possessed. Stunned, Gordon let the RCMP officer walk out. Seating himself, the CLO (Chief Liaison Officer) answered the impatiently ringing telephone with a brisk, “What.”

**Scene Break**


	6. Take Me Out To The Ballgame

 There are chilli dogs nearly everywhere that hotdogs are sold around the world, but none of them were as good as the ones Maggie and Ben ate while they sat along the third base line at Wrigley Stadium. The mystery meat delights were covered in thick, spicy chilli, onions, and relish. A third, plain hotdog just had to be bought for Aurora.

“You're picking up bad habits from Diefenbaker, aren't you girl.” The off-duty RCMP set the dog down on the cement at her feet. Aurora looked up at her with an excited, thankful expression on her white and caramel features a moment before tearing into her treat. Ben sat back, his feet propped up on the empty seat in front of him, eating his own mystery meat delight.

“Aunt Maggie, what's the deal with you and Fraser's friend, Ray?” The boy asked, watching her reaction from the corner of his eye.

“Pardon?” She nearly choked on her chilli when she heard Ben's question. “Ray, we, he..”

“Fewer pronouns and more verbs there Aunt Maggie.” Ben provided.

“Ray and I have a complicated relationship, I work in the Yukon while he's a lieutenant here in Chicago, both of us are very dedicated to our jobs.” Ben nodded as he listened to what his aunt told herself to get to sleep at night.

“Yeah, I'm sure that's it.” The boy looked down at his feet then off to the Cubs' game.

“Have I missed much of the game?” Fraser asked innocently. It was the first time Ben had seen his father out of uniform. He wore a pair of jeans and a dark scarlet button down shirt beneath a leather jacket. Even out of uniform he still managed to wear red.

“It's only the third inning.” Maggie answered, glad to be off the subject of her love life.

“I thought you'd be knee deep in consulate stuff.” Ben looked up at Fraser as he took a seat to the boy's right.

“Turnbull has the whole matter in hand.” The senior RCMP officer glanced at the boy seated beside him, his posture parallel to his own.

“So, why is it you're in charge of planning a big deal for the guys from Ecuador or wherever?” The boy squinted against the afternoon sun, his green eyes bright against his fair skin and dark hair.

“As the junior liaison officer it is my duty to assist the chief liaison officer...” Ben rolled his eyes before interrupting Fraser,

“The Cliff Notes version, please.” Maggie had to bite her tongue in order not to laugh out loud. She knew she spoke just like Fraser, but it was still funny.

“It is just one of the duties of the consulate to entertain other dignitaries when they arrive in Chicago.” It was the most efficient answer he could formulate.

As the third inning wore on the three Canadians sat in silence. Every so often Ben would ask a question about the game or Wrigley stadium. Fraser listened intently to the boy, wondering what would have happened if he'd been able to spend time with Ben since birth, regardless of his relationship with Victoria. Fraser felt lost as to what to do. There was still the matter of how Maggie had come to find the boy. Had Fraser been an influence in the boy's life he knew Ben never would have felt the need to steal in order to find him. Fraser didn't feel comfortable punishing the boy, he was only his father biologically, not in actuality. It was quite the conundrum.

“Son, when you've lived as long as I have...” Robert Fraser began seating himself as comfortably as possible in the stadium seat to his son's right. Maggie and Ben both turned to see the elder Fraser seated beside Benton.

“I am considerably closer than I used to be, Dad.” Fraser spoke with a tired sigh. The days were beginning to catch up to him.

“Mister, you're too damn close.” A man of about Robert Fraser's age looked over at Fraser from three seats down and gave him a warning glare. To the casual observer it looked like the off-duty RCMP had been talking to an empty chair. With a lovely, dark pink blush, Fraser apologized and turned back to watching the game.

“Did you get caught, there..?” Ben stopped short of calling Fraser by name.

“Yes, I'm afraid so.” The boy grinned up at the grown man with the cherry red face.

“Does it happen often?” A faint snicker began to well up in Ben's voice.

“More often than I care to mention, yes.” A bit of a smile pulled at the corner of Fraser's mouth, his eyes crinkling slightly. All three began laughing.

**Scene Break**


	7. Date Night

  Maggie hummed as she adjusted the one nice dress she'd brought south with her. It was black velvet with burgundy color satin trim. It was warm and comfortable, two things the lady Mountie valued highly. She darkened what day makeup she wore and ran a brush through her naturally blonde hair. Getting ready for dinner out with Ray, from the beginning of her shower until she'd put her modest, black heels on, took forty minutes.

“Hey Aunt Maggie, where are you going tonight?” Ben asked, looking up from the television.

“I have a dinner date with Ray, so you and Fraser will have to make do for yourself tonight.” She struggled into her navy pea coat. Ben roused himself just in time to help her straighten the collar.

“Help her with her coat, Ben.” Fraser spoke from the kitchen as he fried hamburgers on the stove in a cast iron skillet. Ben rolled his eyes and pushed himself up off the couch just in time to help Maggie with the collar of the RCMP service coat.

“Don't act like that, helping others is a sign of a great man and a gentleman.” Maggie smoothed the boy's dark hair gently, stifling the urge to kiss his cheek.

“Yes ma'am.” He mumbled, looking at her.

“Don't give up.” Maggie gave him a quick kiss anyway before leaving. After she left the boy settled down in front of the television again, not really paying attention to it or anything else. After a few minutes of nothingness, the boy got up and wandered into the kitchen, silently watching Fraser as he simultaneously fried hamburgers and caramelized onions in a different skillet.

“Do you need any help with, um, anything?” Ben asked quietly, looking up at Benton quizzically, unsure of exactly how to proceed. Most of the male adults Ben had been around were either teachers, social workers or his mother's associates. The later of which he had steered clear of instinctively.

“Would you set the table please.” Fraser answered without looking up from either job. After plundering for a moment he came up with plates, flatware and cups. Slowly, he put them on the table, still silent. Between the two of them they gathered supper together and ate. From time to time one or the other of them would steal a glance at the other. Green eye to green eye they sat eating hamburgers with caramelized onions, lettuce, tomato, and ketchup.

“Is there anything you'd like to ask me, Ben?” Fraser finally spoke, resting his napkin on his knee. The boy popped a french fry into his mouth and gazed at the Mountie as he chewed slowly.

“How come you don't have a girlfriend or a wife or something?” Ben asked finally. Of all the questions he could have asked, Fraser didn't know why he had to ask that one? It took him a moment to collect his thoughts.

“Much of my time has been spent with the RCMP, it's difficult to...” Fraser didn't get to finish his long winded explanation.

“He's bashful as hell, that's why he's forty-something and alone,” Bob Fraser walked into the kitchen, wearing his fur suit, replete with seal skin cap. “Every time a girl comes within ten yards of him he turns tail and runs. In middle school Carolyn Walsh cornered him in the outhouse and he crawled through a hole in the backside and ran off into the woods. It took his grandmother three days to coax him back to school.” The elder Fraser ran his hand over his furry cap as he moved about the small area.

“Dad, that is not what happened and you know it.” Benton turned a dozen shades of red as he tried to refute his father's claim. “She had rancid bear fat in her hair.” Ben listened with eyes wide, in total awe.

“I guess it is kinda hard to find a girl when you have arguments with your dog in public and the uniform looks like it came out of Santa Claus' closet.” Ben observed offhandedly. Both men turned to look at him.

“You are not helping young man.” Benton's eyes were as hard as peridot gem stones.

“OK, just an observation, don't get your boots in a knot.” Neither Mountie had experience being talked to by children with so much sass.

“Have you told the boy how you and Victoria met yet, Son?” Robert Fraser asked, turning the conversation to a different tack.

“Nope, not yet.” Ben answered, a mischievous gleam in his eye. Fraser hung his head for a moment before looking up again.

“She drove the get away car for a bank robbery in Alaska, the money was never recovered. Victoria crossed the border in a light aircraft, but it was forced down by inclement weather, I was the one assigned to track her down. ***** I tracked her to a place called Fortitude Pass. The storm had been blowing for days, the whole world was white. By the time I found her I'd lost everything, my packs, my supplies-everything. She was huddled in the lee side of a mountain crag. She was almost frozen, very near death, so I staked a lean-to, draped my coat across it, drew her inside and I covered her body with mine and I just held her, while the storm closed in around us like a blanket, until all I could hear was the sound of her heartbeat, weakening. I forced her to speak to me. Just to talk to me, say anything to keep the cold from taking her. And it snowed for a day and a night and another day. I was delirious, I almost gave up. The only thing I had to hold onto was the sound of her voice, which never wavered. She recited a poem...” ***** The tale hadn't changed since he'd begun telling it. Ben watched the Mountie's face take on a sad, faraway cast. It was as if he were talking to someone intangible to either Bob Fraser nor Ben. That tale haunted him somewhere deep inside, somewhere he kept hidden.

“So, you were the first one to arrest Mom.” Ben interrupted, seeing the pain in his eyes. Fraser only nodded, part of him glad to stop telling the tale that left him feeling emotionally exposed. Quietly, he swept all the pieces of himself back into their compartment and changed the subject.

“I'll wash if you dry.” Standing up, Fraser gathered his empty dinner plate and walked to the sink. Ben shrugged but followed suit.

“When did you know you loved my mother?” The boy asked as he grabbed a terrycloth towel from the cabinet above the stove. Without thinking the Mountie answered.

“When I first heard her recite the poem.” An old wound had been opened up and Ben saw it in the grown man's eyes when he turned to hand him the skillet. He had seen that same kind of jagged pain in his mother's dark brown eyes before, especially when she looked at him or she saw falling snow. Those were the times that Victoria would hug her son tightly and find something to keep busy for a few hours, until the hurt passed.

_**Later.....** _

“Thanks for a lovely evening, Ray, I had a wonderful time.” Maggie smiled, squeezing his hand as they stood outside Fraser's apartment door. Gently, he stroked her cheek before leaning in to give her a goodnight kiss. When they heard a scratching on the door they knew it was time to leave.

“Goodnight, Ray, I'll call you tomorrow.” Maggie planted a quick kiss on his cheek and let herself inside the apartment. A single candle burned on the kitchen table; a nightlight for her to see by. At the table, with photo albums spread out, Fraser sat in the dark. One, yellow shaft of security light illuminated the albums.

“Hello, Benton, you're up late.” Maggie quietly pulled out a seat across from him.

“Oh, you're back already?” The Mountie sat up straight, massaging the bridge of his nose then wiping the grit from his eyes.

“Already? It's midnight.” The lady Mountie stood up again to pour herself a cup of hours old coffee.

“You still must be on Yukon time.” Fraser gave her a tired smile. He still wore the blue jeans and button down he'd had on at the ballpark. Maggie pulled the photo album to where she could see some of the black and white snapshots.

“This is your family album, I've never seen it before.” Several of the snapshots were of a young, gangly Benton as he progressed through school as well as a few, more candid shots. A shy smile and intense green eyes were the same as the ones she saw in the man seated across the table.

“Yes, I found it among his things in his cabin, _before_ it burnt.” He flipped the page, revealing a service photo of Robert Fraser.

“Why so nostalgic tonight, Benton?” Maggie asked, still looking at the photos in the book. Fraser, who sat with his chin in one hand, shrugged.

“Contemplating the past I suppose.”

“Thinking about what it would have been like if she hadn't escaped all those years ago?” Maggie glanced up from a shot of the entire Fraser family, Benton a toddler on his mother's lap. He chuckled, a dry, crackling sort of sound.

“Yes,” He leaned back in the stiff, wooden chair, both hands covering his face for a moment, as if trying to wipe the past away. He could still see her standing on the train steps, her hand outstretched, waiting for him to join her. It would have been a grand adventure.

“Benton, you've lived life well, so far.” Maggie gave him an encouraging smile and quickly squeezed his free hand.

“Have I?” Gently, he pulled away, his eyes even more haunted than before. This wasn't the usually buoyant Benton Fraser that Maggie had come to know and care for as her brother. She searched for the words to make it better but found none. The pair sat for a long moment in silence before they heard the sound of someone's bare feet slapping on the cracked, linoleum floor.

“What's going on, why are you two up?” Ben leaned against the door frame, his hair dark turning up in duck-tails behind his ears.

“I'm sorry, did we wake you up?” The mood in the apartment changed around them. Ben saw the subtle shift in both adults, as if they'd been talking about something private.

“Is that you?” The boy pointed to a picture beneath Maggie's hand of a very proud Fraser after a hockey game.

“Yes, that was taken when I was only a year or two older than you are now.” Fraser smiled, the memory of days long past coming back to him.

“Hockey's cool, I've watched but never played.” A wistful air settled over Ben.

“Well, a learning session is in order, tomorrow after my shift at the consulate.” The Mountie promised before he thought, Saturday was the dinner party for the Ecuadorian delegation.

“Sounds great.” Ben yawned, his green eyes drooping.

“Right now it's off to bed with you young man.” Maggie pointed one, sharp, authoritative finger up at him. Ben just grinned a little bit and turned to go. Once he'd left the kitchen she turned to Fraser,

“Hockey, that's a good start.” A knowing twinkle in her eye teased him until finally a smirk pulled at the right side of Fraser's lips. A laugh erupted from the usually quiet, lady Mountie.

 

*** Pieces taken from the monologues in episodes “You Must Remember This” and “Victoria's Secret 1 &2”**


	8. Consulate Dinner

_**Saturday at the consulate...** _

Fraser pushed the number two pencil behind his ear for the hundredth time that afternoon as the florist delivered the center pieces for the dinner with the Ecuadorian delegation. The Mountie's clipboard had a long line of check marks down the column of to-do's. It wasn't any wonder that Fraser wasn't married, he spent half of his free time at the consulate doing Mr. Gordon's bidding. It was more insufferable than working for Inspector Meg Thatcher, at least she was a good kisser. Anal retentive witch or not, Fraser missed her.

“Constable Fraser, has the catering service arrived yet?” Gordon asked, a sharp glean to his dark eyes, his jaw working in agitation.

“Yes, Sir, ten minutes ago, ahead of schedule I might add.” The cheerful Mountie briefly cracked a smile, his schedule rhyming with shed.

“Have the musicians arrived and set up?”Gordon pressed on, rechecking Fraser's list.

“Yes, Sir, they're in the dining hall as we speak.”

“Very well, when the delegation arrives message me, I have to pick my suit up from the cleaners.” Gordon brushed imaginary lint off of the dark brown suit he currently wore.

“I took the liberty of collecting it from the dry cleaners this morning, it's hanging in your office.” Gordon stopped in his tracks. Fraser irritated him to no end sometimes. The Chief liaison officer walked away without a word. Fraser turned back to his list, a million things yet to be done and Turnbull to manage.

**Scene Break**

“Aunt Maggie, where did um, Fraser go?” Ben winced at saying Fraser's name. He didn't know if he wanted to call him dad or by his first name. Ben knew he'd have to call him something eventually.

“Benton had to go to the consulate, there's a dinner party there tonight for a delegation of Ecuadorian trade experts, he should be back before dinner.” Maggie looked at her nephew and saw the disappointment in his green eyes.

“He was supposed to teach me how to play hockey.” Ben sighed as he turned and walked back to the living room. Maggie shook her head, she'd known Benton had agreed too quickly the night before.

“I know, he felt badly about having to work today.” Maggie called out as she flipped a pancake over in the cast iron skillet.

“I know.” Was all he said. From the living room Maggie heard the television switch on and the sound of an old cartoon play. She wondered if bringing him to Chicago had been the right decision. If Benton didn't shape up Maggie considered taking the boy as her own.

After a breakfast of pancakes, sausage links, scrambled eggs and hash-browns Maggie took Ben on a tour of the city. They outlined several famous buildings and bridges made famous over the last century and a half. The distinctive skyline of the city didn't lift the boy's spirits at all. A lunch of deep dish pizza, cheesy and piping hot, didn't even tempt the teen out of his mood. The aroma of warm, tomato based sauce and three different cheeses made Maggie's belly button take a bite out of her backbone before they were served a large, fresh pizza. Garlic and oregano were only two of the dozen or so spices that either of them could identify as they sat in a small restaurant at the counter. Colorful glass bottles filled with spices and unusual shaped pastas decorated a black, metal spice rack behind the cash register. Italian flags were hung on each wall as well as the window along the street. When Maggie's cell began to jangle she wondered who could be calling her.

“Hello,” She frowned as she listened to the small, mobile device. The off-duty Mountie began to smile brightly. “Wonderful, we'll be ready at eight o'clock.” Ben looked at her with such a puzzled, innocent expression as she talked. “That was Fraser, we've been invited to the dinner party tonight, I'll have to wear my one, good dress and, oh dear.” Maggie frowned, her sky blue eyes looking about her in absentminded thought.

“I don't have anything nice to wear.” Ben finished her thoughts.

“I wonder how much difference there is in yours and Fraser's sizes?” She turned a scrutinizing eye toward the boy. He was nearly a head shorter than Benton and considerably narrower across the shoulders yet. Besides, Benton probably didn't have a civilian suit. “We'll have to do a little shopping.” She smiled, a certain devilish gleam in her pale eyes.

_**Later, at the consulate...** _

Guests dressed in tuxedos and ball gowns walked around with self satisfied smiles plastered on their faces, all of them wishing they could be home in their pajamas and slippers. Ben felt out of his element among all the adults dressed so finely. Maggie looked positively polished in her velvet dress and up-swept, blonde hair. When Ben first saw Fraser he wondered at the subtle difference in his uniform. Aside from a polish on his boots that the boy could see his reflection in and a few minor pieces of paraphernalia Fraser didn't look any different.

“Good evening, you both look quite nice this evening.” Fraser held the door open for Maggie as she navigated the consulate foyer. From inside the dining hall she could hear Constable Turnbull talking about the differences between Inuit tribes' marriage ceremonies. He came out of the hall carrying a tray of champagne, his eyes immediately taking on a sparkle.

“Ah, hello Maggie, wonderful to see you again so soon,” Turnbull launched into a barrage of questions about their stay in Chicago. Ben watched the conversation in silence, unsure of what to do with himself.

“Have you eaten dinner yet, Ben?” Fraser asked quietly, trying to find something to say to the boy. Getting to know people closely was an art that the Mountie was still perfecting.

“Yeah, Maggie and I made sandwiches.” The boy shrugged, trying not to squirm.

“Help yourself to the buffet table if you'd like.” Fraser pointed to the far end of the dining hall where a line of adults filled plates with chicken, fish or steak beside dishes Ben didn't recognize. Maggie waved as she continued listening to Turnbull. Fraser walked beside him, smiling politely at anyone he made eye contact with.

“What's this dinner party all about anyway?” Ben asked as he added only the things to his plate that he could identify.

“It's a chance for the Ecuadorian trade experts to discuss matters with our own experts and to socialize.” Fraser answered.

“All this fuss to talk about money.” The boy shook his head. Adults didn't make sense most of the time.

“Yes, seems a bit unnecessary to me as well.” The Mountie checked his watch for the tenth time that night.

“Is this what you wanted to do when you became a Mountie?” Ben couldn't imagine anyone wanting to shuffle papers all day and be polite to strangers.

“No.” Fraser stated firmly and without hesitation.

“Why did you join the RCMP then, the Santa suit?” Ben grinned as he added a yeast roll to his plate.

“That's a very good question, I suppose it was because my father was an RCMP officer, one of the greatest.” The Mountie fiddled with one of the highly polished, gold buttons lining the front of his uniform as he spoke, his eyes looking out into the distance.

“What have we here, Constable Fraser?” Mr. Gordon walked up to them briskly, a broad smile on his angular face.

“Mr. Gordon, good evening, I was just explaining the purpose of this event to Ben.” Fraser still felt odd saying his own name, knowing it applied to his son.

“If anyone knows it would be Constable Fraser here.” The fake smile on Gordon's face didn't fool anyone. He was in mingle mode and had had that cheesy grin on his face all evening. Gordon spotted someone he'd rather talk to and excused himself.

“Is he for real?” Ben raised one eyebrow in disgust.

“Mr. Gordon isn't really all that bad.” Was all Fraser could say that wasn't insulting. For a while the pair stood watching the crowd move around them like ants in an ant farm.

“Constable Fraser, Mr. Velasquez has a question about baseball, I know you went to a Cubs game yesterday.” Mr. Gordon pointed toward a well dressed man half a head shorter than Fraser. He seemed like a jovial sort of fellow, with a broad smile and excited eyes. Fraser tapped Ben on the shoulder and took his leave of him.

“I haven't been properly introduced young man, I'm Mark Gordon, Constable Fraser's, uh, boss.” Gordon looked down a bit at the young fellow standing near him. Ben knew the beady, wanting expression on the man's face.

“Tell me about your mother.” Gordon decided to go with the direct approach as he gazed into two very suspicious green eyes.

“One Victoria Metcalf, convicted bank robber, now doing fifteen years to life in an Alaskan prison, the money never found and I don't know where it is.” Ben took a smartaleck tone of voice, what did he have to lose?

“Like father like son.” The chief liaison officer eyed the Mountie's son with a sour expression. Ben simply took his plate and found a table near the kitchen.

“Not very polite of you,” Maggie sat down beside her nephew at the table, cheesecake on her plate.

“I'm sorry Aunt Maggie.” Ben sighed, twirling his fork in his fingers.

“How Mr. Gordon acts reflects badly on him, not on anything you've done.” She squeezed his free hand and gave him a million dollar smile.

“I get tired of answering questions, I don't know where Mom hid the money, or if there's any money to be hid.” The young man grumbled.

“Eventually it will all be forgotten.” The lady Mountie tried to sound optimistic.

“People have been asking since I can remember and I still don't have the answers, I never will.” Ben gripped the fork tightly, his knuckles turning white. All Maggie could do was be quietly supportive. By ten o'clock Ben was sleepy and Maggie was tired of talking to strangers.

**Scene Break**


	9. Kidnap

 Gordon paced the office, the brick of a cell phone clamped so tightly it threatened to break. The Chief Liaison officer wondered what his long distance bill would be when he finished.

“I know, but the kid is his father's son, he won't tell where Victoria Metcalf hid the money, he can't be tricked.” A male voice on the other end of the phone swore roughly. “I won't do it, I won't kidnap the boy.” Gordon's voice took a nasty tone to it. Fraser was more of an annoyance than a threat or a problem. What the voice said next made the Canadian bureaucrat’s blood run cold. His reflection appeared remarkably pale in the window as he studied the city streets surrounding the consulate. Dealing with the bank president hadn't been his best decision to date. Henry Stonesbury had a reputation for being ruthless and conniving in the business world and out. His iceberg eyes were legendary for their electric spark when he was about to ax someone.

“Yes, I'll find the money.” Gordon ended the call, still without an answer and in a bigger quandary than ever. He sighed before switching off the light and leave the consulate.

“Good night, Sir, have a good evening.” Turnbull dusted the shade of a lamp in the foyer. Gordon waved as he let the door shut behind him.

**Scene Break**

“What are you and Ray doing tonight, Aunt Maggie?” Ben looked up at his aunt, a teasing tone in his voice as he sat on the couch.

“Another dinner date?” Fraser asked, his tone not teasing but his eyes dancing merrily. She shot him a reproachful glare before answering them both.

“Yes, another dinner date.” She ran a brush through her short, thick, blonde ponytail as she got ready to leave for the skating rink.

With Aurora and Diefenbaker in tow they set out for the ice rink Fraser had arranged the day before. The Mountie had been up early, gathering his gear and sharpening his blades. Maggie hadn't seen her half brother as excited in a long time.

“So, did Aunt Maggie tell you what your boss asked last night?” Ben started out, not looking directly at his father. Fraser whirled around, his gaze leveling on Maggie as she followed with the dogs.

“No, no she did not.” Maggie felt the blood rush to her cheeks under Fraser's indignant, green eyes. “What did Mr. Gordon have to discuss?” He let his companions catch up. Anyone but Maggie and possibly Buck Frobisher were hard pressed to keep up with Fraser when he had a mind to take off walking, even after years spent treading Chicago. His stride was swift and efficient.

“Where my mother hid the money they stole.” Ben answered, watching a passing bird overhead before turning back to the two mounties.

“And your answer was?” Ben watched his father watch him, Fraser's tongue rubbing the slightly imperfect eyetooth as he did so.

“The same answer I've given everyone who's asked, I don't know where the money is or if there was any money to begin with.” The boy sighed, wondering what the Mountie would do with the knowledge.

“Don't worry, Son, I'll take care of it.” Those words nearly stopped the Mountie in his tracks. He sounded so much like his father it felt eerie to hear. With a deep breath the RCMP officer set back about his pace without another word.

 _Chicago Ice_ had an empty parking lot on that Sunday morning as the three people and two dogs walked into the quiet, cold rink. The ice was as clear as any freshly washed windowpane. Around the surface not a soul stirred. Overhead a loudspeaker played classic, 1960's rock music. It was sunny and upbeat. Despite his preference for heavy metal it didn't sound too bad to Ben. Dief and Aurora settled themselves along one of the bleachers to watch.

“Fraser, good morning, how are you?” A short, burly man came out from behind the concession stand counter, a broad smile on his bearded face.

“Mr. Crook, thank you for allowing us the use of the rink this morning.” Fraser shook hands with the tubby, smiling man.

“No problem, anything for you, Constable Fraser.” His dark eyes looked over to Maggie and Ben.

“Mr. Crook, this is my sister, Maggie and my son, Ben.” The dark eyed man politely shook hands with both of them.

“The rink is yours until eleven o'clock, help yourselves to the gear room.” Mr. Crook handed Fraser the keys to the storage room behind the rental counter. Maggie found her gear easily, passing up the pink skates and favoring a pair of boys that looked sturdy. Ten minutes later she had an assortment of padding and protective equipment. It took Fraser longer to help Ben and change himself.

“Who taught you to play hockey, Aunt Maggie?” Ben asked before he slipped in a brand new mouth piece.

“My mother, actually, she was a fine goalie.” Maggie smiled while Fraser nodded. He'd played a few games with Maggie and her mother over the years.

“Do you play any other sports, Ben?” Fraser asked, trying to determine how coordinated the boy was.

“A few pickup games of basketball, tennis for a semester two years ago.” Ben shrugged, wishing he hadn't moved around worse than any army brat as he sat on the first bleacher.

“Well, sounds like a fair amount of basics.” The Mountie ran his gloved hand over the lower half of his face.

“Who's playing what, Benton?” Bob Sr asked, appearing from out of left field. Benton hung his head.

“Why don't you play spectator, Dad.” Benton tried hard to keep the growl out of his voice.

“He's already playing specter.” Ben chuckled, making a pun. Maggie popped in her mouth guard to stop the laughter welling up into her throat. She pushed off, remembering her own basic set of skills. It had been too long since she'd strapped on a set of skates.

Teaching Ben how to skate took the first hour and ended up with his end down, rather harshly most of the time. Maggie watched as the two truly began to bond. There was a zeal about Fraser that she hadn't seen in a few years and it reflected in Ben. The boy's stormy attitude disappeared as he listened to every word Fraser said as the off-duty Mountie coaxed him around the rink. By eleven o'clock everyone was cold and hungry. Maggie sat down on the bleachers to unlace her skates as Fraser helped Ben take off his gear. Mr. Crook waded out through the bleachers toward them.

“Fraser, I have some hamburgers and fries ready for you if you'd like to eat before the crowd arrives.” The rink manager's voice carried as he spoke in an accented voice. His short, stout arms were pushed deep into his khaki pants beneath a dark blue, _Chicago Ice_ polo shirt.

“Thank you, Mr. Crook, what do I owe you for this morning?” Fraser picked up his uniform hat and began to pull US currency from the inside band.

“After you caught that fake food vendor who'd stolen my cash box, I am the one who owes you, Constable Fraser.” Mr. Crook waved his money away with one sausage fingered hand and a big smile.

“I insist, we've interrupted your business far too long.” Fraser continued.

“Aunt Maggie, I have to hit the latrine, I'll be back in a few minutes, okay.” Ben spoke quietly as he slipped his feet down into his street shoes without tying them. It was too urgent a trip to fool with.

“We'll have lunch as soon as you get back so make sure to wash your hands thoroughly.” The lady Mountie warned. Ben pretended to pick his nose and made a face at her before he walked toward the large, white and blue 'restroom' sign behind the bleachers. Maggie laughed at his teasing as she carried their gear to the rental counter. It was good to see Ben happy.

The rink men's room was like so many other nondescript restroom all over the world. Hand dryers hung on the wall beside a row of three sinks. Across from the sinks were two, white, porcelain urinals and two enclosed stalls. A high, narrow window allowed natural light access through frosted glass. Ben washed his hands, complete with soap, when he heard someone walk out of the stall diagonal to him. Glancing up into the five foot long by three foot high mirror he saw someone in a ski mask pull a firearm from the leather coat they wore and point it at him.

“Don't try anything kid.” Came a deep, unwavering, male voice. Ben let the warm water run over his hands, stunned at the sight of the small, black weapon in the gloved man's hand. Another man came out of the second stall, their face also covered with a dark colored ski mask. This one was shorter than the first and more fidgety.

“Open that window, kid, then climb out, there's someone waiting on the other side so don't get cute.” The gunman ordered, his voice like dragging tin on a gravel road. Ben dried his hands on the tail of the button down he'd borrowed from Fraser and began rolling the frosted windowpane open. The short kidnapper helped him scrambled through the window then hustled through himself. Outside a black, Ford SUV waited with the back door open. A rough hand shoved Ben toward the running vehicle and a third, dark clad kidnapper holding the door.

“I'm going, don't get your tennis shoes in a knot, okay.” The boy shrugged the rough hand off. He tried to look around for something he could use as a weapon. If he could only knock the smaller guy behind him down he knew he could outrun them through the streets and between the buildings. Before Ben could think of anything he was being shoved into the waiting 4X4.

_**In the rink...** _

“Fraser have you seen Ben, I thought he'd be out of the restroom by now.” Maggie asked, seating herself in the booth across from Fraser, a burger on her plate with onion rings and a milkshake. Diefenbaker and Aurora sat on the floor at her feet, waiting expectantly for their dinners. Both pairs of amber yellow eyes were looking up at her so earnestly, so pleadingly it was pathetic.

“No, I thought he was with you.” They exchanged loaded glances before Fraser stood up to investigate. Without a word he headed toward the men's restroom. He saw the water splashed on the counter and the open window and knew what had happened.

“Maggie, he 's not in here.” Diefenbaker took off to join his master. Maggie gathered Ben's jacket and let Aurora sniff it deeply. With her order the lady dog took off behind Dief.

“I'll call Ray.” Maggie pulled her cell and hit two on the speed dial.

“I'm going to follow Diefenbaker and Aurora.” With easy athleticism, Fraser climbed out the high window and dropped onto the ground five feet below. It had been a lot easier landing before receiving a deep knife wound his first year in Chicago. Regardless of the pain, he dropped down to examine a set of tire treads beside the dogs. Maggie joined him, Ray still on the cell phone pressed against her ear.

“He's been taken, Benton, we have to find him.” She pressed her hand over the speaker of the phone, worry evident in her pale blue eyes.

“The kidnappers have been in the ice rink all morning, they were waiting to catch Ben alone.” Fraser studied the tufts of grass surrounding the tire treads before looking at Maggie again. It took him a moment to collect himself. He'd promised Victoria he'd take care of Ben. He felt he owed it to the boy for the years of absence, in spite of the reason why. A surge of fear and panic like Fraser had never encountered rose up inside him like bile. He took a deep breath and fought it back into it's proper place. Just then wasn't the time or place to lose focus.

“He says he'll be here in ten minutes or less with the forensics team.” Maggie snapped the cell phone closed and pushed it back into her jeans pocket. She resisted the urge to take Fraser's hand as he stood rather lost beside the dogs.

**Scene Break**


	10. Kidnap Continued

 Ben felt his heart beat hard and fast in his chest, the sound of it thundering in his ears as he sat quietly in the backseat of the SUV. His captors had tied his hands and pulled a ski mask over his head backwards. The doors were child locked as well as the windows. The boy knew because he'd tried them both. None of the captors spoke, not to Ben nor to each other. It was unsettling sitting in near darkness _and_ silence. His mind rushed, trying to think of a way to leave a trail for Fraser and Maggie to follow. Nothing seemed to be at hand. Ben felt much younger than his fourteen years as he rode. He missed his mother, Aunt Maggie, and even Fraser a little. The boy knew, somehow, that both mounties were looking for him and in the end everything would be alright.

**Scene Break**

“Alright there fellas, this is top priority.” Ray spoke, quickly briefing the group of investigators gathered around him outside _Chicago Ice_. The lieutenant had dressed in jeans and a Chicago Bulls t-shirt beneath a long sleeve denim shirt. Mr. Crook had made coffee and, because gratuities were against the regulations, charged the investigators fifty cents per generous cup. Fraser and Maggie stood around the new lieutenant as he directed traffic and resources from behind the ice rink. Blue lights swirled and uniformed cops wandered around the perimeter, most drinking coffee, and all of them on their toes.

“What's your take on this, Fraser, could the boy have run away for any reason?” It was the first question that Ray would have asked any parent. When he heard those words come out of his mouth they sounded wrong. Ray gritted his teeth as he waited for Fraser to reply.

“No, we had just finished playing hockey, and getting ready to have lunch in the dining area.” Maggie answered, worry evident in her voice. She felt as though she knew Ben better than anyone around to speak for him.

“Ben didn't run, Ray, three men in a large, American SUV were waiting for him, they had one man on this side of that window,” The Mountie pointed with his hat to the frosted glass still hanging open several feet away. “The second one who climbed out was lighter, probably five foot seven, one hundred and fifty pounds, a woman possibly, but the other two were proximately my size, most likely armed.” Fraser's keen eyes studied the tire tracks from a distance as two of the forensics team poured a fine, cement like mixture into a mold set across the tire tracks. With any luck they would be able to identify what specific type of vehicle had been waiting on the kidnappers.

“Do you know of any reason anyone would have to take Ben?” Again, Ray hated the words coming out of his mouth, but he had to ask.

“I'm not certain just now, Ray.” Maggie heard her half-brother keep something from his best friend and wondered at it. She covered her mouth with her hand to stop herself from blurting out the truth. Looking at Ray, Maggie knew the police lieutenant hadn't bought it, but he wasn't about to press his best friend for more details.

“Alright, well, Det. Midkiff is taking Mr. Crook's statement right now, I've got uniforms checking for other eye witnesses, you know the drill.” The police lieutenant shrugged, knowing Fraser knew procedure probably forwards and backwards.

“Thank you, Ray.” Fraser looked up from studying the tracks, his face almost in profile against the gray sky behind him. With a sigh the Mountie put his broad brimmed hat back on and turned away from Maggie. Wordlessly, he turned and walked back toward the rink. Diefenbaker trotted behind his human friend. Aurora came to stand beside Maggie who stayed to talk to Ray.

**Scene Break**

“Good evening, Ben Metcalf.” A deep, authoritative, male voice spoke from out of the darkness. The boy searched the murky room around him for the source of the gravelly voice. He couldn't tell how much time had passed or how many miles the kidnappers had driven. Ben did however know that he was hungry, that breakfast had been a long time ago.

“Who are you?” Ben's voice broke and became shrill.

“That is none of your concern, Ben, what is your business, however, is where the money your mother had hidden from her first heist in Alaska.” Ben felt a heavy hand on his head, then the ski mask being pulled off. It didn't make it any easier to see the man questioning him. He still sat in the back of the Ford Explorer's backseat. It sat inside a dark garage that smelled of motor oil, gasoline and dirt.

“I don't know where Mom hidden the money, or if there even is any money.” Anger flared in the Mountie's son as he sat bound with zip ties around his wrists and ankles.

“Now I just don't believe that to be true, we're still missing over a million dollars, and we want it back, if we don't get it we are prepared to begin chipping away at your burgeoning family, starting with the dogs, or wolves really.” The voice took on a sharp edge, as sharp as the hunting knife Ben had stolen.

“You can kill them all and I still wouldn't be able to tell you where the money is, for all I know Mom spent it all.” The boy wrung his hands as he spoke, frustrated that he couldn't get away and that people kept asking him about something he knew nothing about.

“Then let me rephrase my question, tell me everything you know about that heist you've ever heard, and do it now.” Somehow the edge of the kidnappers' voice grew sharper, more insistent.

“Mom won't talk about it, that’s when she met Fraser.” Ben shrugged insolently.

“Fraser, as in Benton Fraser, attached to the Canadian Consulate.” The sinister tone in the man's voice chilled Ben, it worried him. Fraser wasn't the easiest nut to crack, but the boy sensed he cared about him.

“Yeah, so?” Ben saw the man talking to him lean forward, his features still shrouded in darkness. Light from the Ford's courtesy lights gleaned off the man's head. Tufts of gray and white hair lined the skin toward his crown.

“You've been very helpful, Ben, if things work out you'll be turned loose very soon.” The kidnapper leaned back into the darkness. Fear gripped the Mountie's son like the zip ties binding him.

**Scene Break**

“Victoria Metcalf, you have a phone call.” The dull eyed guard spoke slowly, his coffee colored fingers adjusted his belt, the baton and other paraphernalia pulling his pants down around his hips. The curly headed inmate pushed a strand of hair away from her hazel eyes. She'd had a bad feeling all day but couldn't put her finger on the reason why. Victoria waited for the door to slide to her right before stepping out.

“Hello,” She waited for a voice to come through from the other end.

“Ms. Metcalf, this is someone who has your son, Ben,” She clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from gasping. From the other end of the line she heard her son's voice, asking “Who are you?”

“What do you want, where's my son?” Victoria demanded, tears beginning to obscure her vision.

“I want the money you stole in Alaska, tell me where it is and your son will be released, unharmed.” The male voice sounded nonchalant, as if the weather was changing soon.

“How do I know you won't take the money and kill him anyway?” Victoria's mind raced, examining the situation from every angle.

“Simply put, you don't.” His voice was so calm it scared Victoria. It's really scared when the bad guys are scared of other bad guys.

“How are we going to do this, I want my son, you want the money.” Her voice was stronger than she felt.

“Tell me where it is, Victoria, and this will all be over, your son will be release and he can get to know his father after all these years.” Sarcasm dripped from the cultured voice so far away.

“Fortitude Pass.” The two word phrase came out with something akin to weight across the phone. “In order to get it you'll need Benton Fraser, he's the only one who knows how to find it.” Tears betrayed the lady bank robbers' feelings as she sat in the gloomy cubicle waiting.

“Very good, Victoria, very good.” The self satisfied voice on the other end spoke just before the line went dead. She hung up the black phone and motioned for the guard to take her back to her cell.

**Scene Break**


	11. Fortitude Pass

 After forensics had torn the rink apart from top to bottom and caused Mr. Crook to lose a days' business, Fraser and Maggie left. Both Mounties were silent as they walked the few blocks back to the apartment. Fraser had declined Ray's offer of a ride home, preferring instead to do his thinking on his feet. When he arrived at the old, brick building he heard a familiar voice.

“Hello, Son, I see the local authorities haven't found the boy yet.” Robert Fraser stood at the stove, stirring a pot of pasta as it bubbled furiously.

“No Dad, they haven't.” Fraser tried very hard to hold his tongue around his father, but something about the old man irritated him.

“What's for dinner?” Maggie walked into the tiny kitchen and looked at the pasta boiling.

“Chicken Alfredo with elbow macaroni.” The elder Fraser shrugged and continued stirring.

“I thought you couldn't affect this world.” Maggie wondered, her brow furrowing for a moment.

“Sometimes he can, sometimes he can't.” Benton answered from the living room. He almost didn't hear the confounded cellular device vibrating on the coffee table. Puzzled, he studied the ID, _'Blocked'_ , then answered.

“Constable Benton Fraser, we have your son, Ben. In exchange we want you to retrieve the stolen money Victoria Metcalf hid in Fortitude Pass.” Fraser picked up the pen and pad he kept handy and began writing notes for later.

“I have no idea where the money is, Fortitude Pass is several hundred square miles of desolate landscape.” Fraser racked his brain thinking of the time he and Victoria had spent trapped by the snow storm in that pass and the days they'd spent walking back to the outpost. He had caught up to her at the top of the pass just as the storm began to roll in overhead. There had been no way of determining exactly how long she'd been there before he caught up to her.

“You have seventy-two hours to find the money, after that the boy dies.” The male voice sounded cold and dispassionate. “Good luck, Constable Fraser.” A click on the other end ended the call.

“Maggie, the kidnappers called, they want me to retrieve the money from Fortitude Pass in exchange for Ben, I have seventy-two hours.” Fraser had his hat on and his leather jacket as he walked into the kitchen.

“I'll call Ray and have him track the call, it's slim, but it's a lead.” She looked both worried and hopeful at the same time.

“Thank you kindly, Maggie.” He turned to leave, his usually swift gait taking him halfway across the living room before she could catch up.

“Where are you going, Benton?” He looked down at his feet before looking into his sister's face.

“There are only a handful of people who have the number to my consulate cell phone; Constable Turnbull, you, and Ray, to name three, I'm going to speak to the other.” A harsh, determined glint in his eye concerned Maggie. She'd rarely seen anything but goodwill in her brother's face.

_**Mark Gordon's house...** _

Rosie had left a plastic container of lasagna in the refrigerator and a salad to go with it. All Mark Gordon had to do was heat it up and eat. It's hard to eat with a guilty conscience though. He thought about the boy he and two others had hustled into the back of the rental and how scared and lonely he must be. The CLO wasn't a bad man at heart but he was selfish and rather petty by nature. The greedy CLO poured himself his second, generous glass of red wine and tried to eat. A loud knock on the door interrupted his drab thoughts. A few moments later he jerked the door of his narrow town house open.

“Constable Fraser, hello.” After a second collecting his thoughts, Gordon let the man in.

“Good evening, Mr. Gordon.” Hat in hand, the Mountie stepped inside the well decorated entrance. Heavily frosted glass sconces hung like gently floating flowers along the short hall. Mail sat unopened on a cherry wood hall table.

“I'm surprised to see you here, Constable Fraser, I would have thought you'd be spending time with your son.” Gordon fidgeted with the change in his pockets as he led the intimidating officer into his living room.

“I would be except that Ben was kidnapped earlier today.” Fraser spoke without preamble. It was all Gordon could do to feign surprise at his subordinate's words.

“What can I do to help, Constable Fraser, you must be a wreck.” Gordon took a seat in the maroon arm chair he favored.

“Yes Sir, you can tell me who's behind it.” Benton stood, his hat in his hands turning slowly as he waited for an answer. Gordon's eyes flashed at the outright accusation.

“What in the world makes you think I have anything to do with your son's kidnapping?” He gripped the tumbler in his hand more tightly.

“There are approximately five people who know the number to the consulate cell phone issued to me and you're the only one who could be persuaded to hand it over.” Fraser watched his boss like a hawk. He'd seen him day in and day out and knew the man as well as he knew himself. Gordon threw the last of the wine back and set the glass tumbler on the end table to his right.

“Constable Fraser, an accusation of this nature could put an end to your career, tread lightly.” The CLO rose to his feet, ready to strike.

“Better to end my career than to see the end of my son, Mr. Gordon, now tell me who has Ben.” His words came in a tone of voice that brooked no hesitation from the one hearing it. But then Gordon had never been particularly bright. Taking a step forward, he deliberated whether he should call the police or confess. Either way, he felt trapped.

“I had no choice in the matter, Constable Fraser.” Gordon turned back around, feelings of cowardice and shame flooding through him. He'd always been a civil servant, guns and covert operations scared the absolute shit out of him, always had.

“Who has my son, Mr. Gordon?” Fraser's voice rose a notch, still calm but more insistent.

“Henry Stonesbury, it was his idea, at first to scare the boy into talking, that didn't work so he had someone call Victoria, she's the one who gave us Fortitude Pass, she says you're the only one who knows how to find it.” Suddenly exhausted, Gordon sank back into the arm chair, his hand rubbing his chin as if it would clear the bad words away.

“That tells me who has Ben, but that doesn't tell me where he is.” The diligent Mountie pressed on. Gordon looked up at him, helpless.

“I don't know where the boy is, Constable Fraser, the other two booted me out of the vehicle on the corner of State street.” Gordon had had a rough twenty-four hours and didn't see an end to it in sight. Fraser pulled out his cell phone and dialed Ray's number. Ten minutes later the lieutenant and two uniformed officers knocked on the front door.

“Your call was kinda cryptic there, Fraser, what's going on?” Ray asked as he tired to peek in the house around Fraser. He saw the Mountie's boss sitting in the living room looking like a crumpled wreck.

“Mr. Gordon has admitted to conspiracy to kidnap and most likely fraud.” Fraser smoothed his eye brow with his thumbnail, his mind a thousand miles away.

“He's one of 'em that kidnapped your boy, uh, Ben?” Ray shook his head, wondering what other plot twists were coming.

“Yes, he is the smaller of the three men who abducted Ben, the others left him on a corner along State street.” Fraser spoke calmer than he felt. Frustration and urgency were two, driving forces within the Canadian. He never imagined his life with a child, a son, before. A few days of getting to know him and Fraser couldn't imagine his life without Ben. They'd only scratched the surface getting to know each other.

“We'll get Ben back, Fraser, you can count on it.” Ray briefly laid a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder.

“Thank you, Ray.” The Mountie smiled a fraction before pulling on his Stetson. Maggie followed one of the uniformed officers into the house. Seeing a very concerned Fraser she stopped short.

“Fraser, do you know where he is yet?” She laid her small hand on his arm as she searched his face for the answer. He only shook his head.

“What's yer next move, Fraser?” Ray asked, narrowing his pale blue eyes. Fraser was keeping something from him and he knew it.

“I have a phone call to make.”

**Scene Break**

“Victoria Metcalf, there's a phone call for you.” The dull eyed guard that had retrieved her earlier came again as the inmate folded laundry. Her work detail was a monotonous one but at least around the driers and hot water tanks was warm in the winter. Victoria laid the half folded sheet on the waist high table and followed the hefty, lady guard out of the gray and white room and the half dozen other women working. Another guard escorted her to the small cubicle containing a desk and a phone.

“Hello.” She said as if asking a question.

“Victoria, this is Benton,” He paused, unsure of what exactly to say. As usual, Fraser was all at sea talking to her.

“Did you find Ben, is he alright?” Victoria leaned forward, biting her nails as she waited impatiently for the Mountie to answer.

“No, no I haven't found him yet, I'm calling to ask you about Fortitude Pass, Victoria.” She heard Benton sigh, a jagged, tired sound.

“I know, Benton, they called me earlier today, I told them you knew how to find it.” She pulled herself together a little, her nimble mind focusing.

“Victoria, as I recall, the money was never recovered, it's long since rotted away if you hid it in Fortitude Pass.” The Mountie spoke logically. Victoria had wondered if he were human or a Star Trek Vulcan, with his logic and calm exterior. She'd pounded her fists against his chest and he'd done nothing to stop her.

“I thought that if I told them you knew where it was they'd give you time to find it, time to find Ben. You promised you'd take care of him, Benton.” The convicted felon's voice became sharp, insistent.

“I will find him, Victoria, I don't make a promise I can't keep.” He looked up from the desk to the ceiling above, wishing the answers were printed overhead in bold letters.

“You don't make a promise you don't keep,” She spat venomously “Like the promise you made me all those years ago when we were stuck in the storm, that you'd do everything in your power to help me, because those ten years in prison sure felt like a let down to me.” Bitterness rolled off of her in waves. Benton felt the punch of her words as well as any blow he'd ever received physically. He'd long since quit feeling guilty for bringing her to justice and yet on occasion it would catch up to him and overwhelm him. Sometimes, when things were quiet, Fraser would close his eyes and remember how it had felt to feel her in his arm and wonder if she ever did the same. Her beautiful voice was as fresh in his memory as the night he'd first heard it.

“Find my son, Benton, find _our_ son.” Victoria's last sentence came out softly, as though she were crying.

“Victoria, if I had let you go, would it have changed anything, I mean between us?” The question left Fraser's mouth like word vomit. He hadn't even known he intended to say it aloud.

“I don't know, Benton, I guess we'll never know for certain.” Her answer didn't fill any of the hollowness he'd spent years trying to fill or ignore. Sometimes the RCMP just didn't fill the void left in his life.

“If you'd ran away with me on that train years ago, would it have changed things, Benton?” Her words were soft, silky, like water rushing across a creek bed.

“I would have gotten to know my son.” The Mountie answered, barely audible, his eyes closed as he spoke.

“Point taken, Benton.” The inmate relented. It was always a dance between them, with music only the two of them heard. Fraser could never quite keep his footing as Victoria led the way.

“I'll find Ben, Victoria, you have my word.” He said good-bye and hung up the phone in the pitch black office of the Canadian Consulate. Alone in the dark, Fraser let the tears he'd never been able to shed fall. Cold and wet, they slid like raindrops down his cheeks as the emptiness of a loveless life engulfed him. No one knew what it was like to be Benton Fraser. The Mountie had always longed to have a loving family like his co-workers. His wife wouldn't have had to be a supermodel or his children members of MENSA, just a loving family. After a shuddering sob he felt a warm, heavy body lean against his knee. Kneeling down, Fraser took Diefenbaker's face in his hands and scratched the old wolf's chin.

“I can't help but love her, what else am I to do?” The Mountie let the white and caramel wolf move in closer to comfort him.

**Scene Break**

Somewhere south of midnight the Mountie and his canine companion arrived at his apartment door. The key slid easily into the dead bolt and turned it quickly. Stepping inside he saw Maggie waiting up for him, Ray beside her on the couch asleep with his arm on the back of the loveseat.

“Benton, good,” She looked up at him, relieved to see her half brother. “I have coffee in the kitchen if you'd like some.” The lady Mountie stood up, her pale eyes searching Fraser's for any sign of hope. She worried about him despite knowing from first hand experience how well her half brother could take care of himself.

“Thank you kindly, Maggie.” He managed a tired smile as he hung his hat and jacket on a hook near the door. Ray heard the sound of voices and began to stir. It had been many a moon since he'd stayed awake all night for any reason.

“Hey, Fraser, you're finally home.” Blinking quickly, the lieutenant sat up and stretched.

“Yes, I had a phone call to make, it took longer than I had anticipated.” He looked out the living room window, avoiding Ray's steady gaze.

“We took Gordon into custody, he sang like a bird, but he doesn't know where the other kidnappers took Ben, just that they let him out at State street. Authorities in Alaska are probably questioning Stonesbury as we speak.” Ray brought down a tightly curled fist onto his knee as he wiped sleep out of his eyes.

“Have you called the FBI yet, Ray?” Fraser asked, turning around from looking out at the street.

“No, not yet, I'm dragging my feet on that one, I don't want those Washington types screwing up the investigation.” Working with the federal agency had never gone smoothly for the CPD lieutenant.

“Are you sure that's a wise move?” Fraser asked, his mind moving in a thousand different directions.

“I can buy a few more days, after that I don't know.” Ray ran his hand down his face as if to change the view when he looked up again.

“Thank you kindly, Ray, hopefully the FBI won't be necessary.” A determined glint shone in the Mountie's green eyes.

“Benton, let me make you something to eat.” Maggie insisted. She padded barefoot into the kitchen and dipped out a hearty bowl of moose stew with potatoes, carrots, green beans, peas, and all manner of vegetables. With a chunk of biscuit pone it tasted divine. Weary to the bone, Fraser sat down at the kitchen table and dug a spoon into the steaming, meaty broth. Maggie shot Ray a concerned glance. They'd both seen the redness around Fraser's eyes and the way they glistened like wet peridots.

“What's our next move there, Fraser?” The police lieutenant asked, waiting for the Mountie to unload himself about what had happened at Mr. Gordon's house. He studied the Canadian carefully, if anyone knew Fraser it was Ray Kowalski. Then again, that had been before he had a son to consider.

“We find Ben.” Fraser spoke without looking at either of the people most concerned about him.

**Scene Break**


	12. The Hunger

 “Here, eat this.” A dark blue bandana covered the boy's eyes as he tried to find the pizza he could smell somewhere near his face. Carefully, he brought both hands up to find the kidnappers' hands and the pizza. It smelled heavenly. The usually picky eater didn't care what the pizza had on it, breakfast had been more than twelve or fourteen hours ago. Even pineapples and green peppers together tasted wonderful. Ben had been sitting in the vehicle ever since they'd forced him inside. Why, he didn't know but he was sure tired of sitting in the back of the Ford Explorer all cramped up.

“When are you going to let me go?” Ben demanded to know after eating the overgenerous slice of pizza. A second, large piece was laid on his knee.

“As soon as we get the money your mother stole, kid.” A gruff, agitated voice answered. The whole time Ben had been sitting in the back of the SUV he'd been thinking of how to get out of the small space containing the American vehicle. So far he hadn't thought of anything. His hands were tied so tightly that he couldn't get into the hatch area to find anything. Ben wanted to lay hands on a tire iron so he could break the window, but then there was a guard somewhere in the garage.

 _“I can't believe I've been so dumb for so long, ugh.”_ Ben thought to himself after he heard the door between the garage and the outside close. After eating all the pizza laid on his lap, he pulled his pocket knife from his front pocket and pulled the well oiled blade out of the Case XX. It opened with a quiet, ' _snick'_. One of the boys at the home had taught him how to sharpen the blade to keen edge. He kept the three inch blade razor sharp. There had been a lot to learn at the home, especially about how to get into trouble. Ben had been an apt pupil in that life class.

Quickly he cut through the thick, plastic zip ties binding his hands and feet. Free at last, Ben began to look through the hatch area of the SUV, searching for anything that might help him escape. Searching the compartment beneath the side rear window he found the jack. With it came a skinny, metal handle, just big enough to do some damage.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you, son.” The gruff man who'd brought him pizza spoke, a handgun in his gloved hand as he pointed it at the rear hatch window. Ben let the jack handle fall free of his hand and sat down on the seat again.

“How'd you get out of those zip ties, kid?” The kidnapper's face was hidden by a dark ski mask but Ben could tell that his eyes were dark colored and his eye brows were nearly black. Ben heard someone open the door then felt himself being dragged out into the garage. The bandana had long since been taken off but it was so dark he couldn't make out anything about the kidnappers without the light from the SUV's interior lights.

“You didn't check his pockets, you lunkhead.” A voice Ben hadn't heard before spoke, cursing one of his companions. Roughly, someone shoved their hands into Ben's jeans pockets. A few coins hit the cement at his feet and his billfold was removed. He just let them search, the kidnappers were unlikely to find the knife where he'd hidden it in the back of the seat pocket in the Explorer.

“How did you get loose, kid, and you'd better answer truthfully, we don't actually need you for this deal.” The first, gruff voice barked in his ear.

“I rubbed the ties against my zipper handle until I could pull the plastic apart.” Ben lied instantly. His heart beat hard and fast in his chest. All this made the trouble he got into over stealing the hunting knife look like a tiptoe through the tulips. Aunt Maggie could be rough, but she did it because she cared and even at fourteen, Ben knew that.

“Great, we're gonna have to leave the kid sitting in his boxers now.” The last voice cracked sarcastically.

“No, we're not, here, put these on him.” Ben heard metal clacking as someone caught what ever was thrown. One kidnapper held his hands in front of him as another one clamped handcuffs down on his wrists.

“Ouch, that hurts.” The boy pulled away, his back slamming harmlessly into the side of the vehicle.

“You'll get over it, now get in there and sit down.” Gruff voice shoved him into the backseat again.

“You'll regret this, my father is a Royal Canadian Mounted Policeman, he'll catch you for sure.” Ben threatened, frustration and fear pulling at him.

“If he knows what's good for you he's on an airplane right now headed for Fortitude Pass.” One of the kidnappers laughed. “You, lunkhead, stay in here and watch the boy, the kid's seen too many episodes of _MacGyver,_ one of us will be out to take over in a few hours.” Two men walked through a door at one end of the garage, leaving one behind. Ben had had many fights over the last few years. For his age he wasn't bad, but he knew he couldn't stand up to a full grown man who was armed. He sat back against the seat, his head against the glass. Eventually the boy laid over onto the seat and stretched out to sleep. It had been a long day.

**Scene Break**


	13. Camella

 Bright light filled the office as Ray sat down with his third cup of coffee of the morning. He'd been reviewing cases all morning and waiting on Detective Midkiff to give him the report on the traffic cameras near _Chicago Ice_ and every ATM along that street as well as State street.

“Welsh knew exactly what he was getting me into and didn't warn me, crazy, ole SOB.” The new lieutenant groused under his breath as he fished out his reading glasses for the day. He'd long since quit pretending that he didn't wear them and shoved the prescription spectacles up on his nose.

“Here's what we have, Lieutenant.” Midkiff walked in after a short peck on the old door. The younger detective had a slightly southern accent, husky and heavy on the drawl when he tried to charm young ladies. That, and his diamond blue eyes atop a crooked grin didn't hurt his case.

“Lay it on me.” Ray Kowalski closed the file folder he'd just opened and laid it aside.

“The lab boys caught these photos from one of the ATM's along State street and used it to find the Explorer on the traffic cameras.” A miniscule license plate had been blown up to the size of a three inch by five inch photograph, plenty large enough to be read and run through the computers. Neatly typed on the next page was the owner of the Explorer, his address, phone number, and other vital statistics. The Ford SUV hadn't been reported stolen-yet.

“Good, have a uniform cruise the neighborhood, I'll go over there and check it out, may be something, may be nothing.” Ray shooed the detective out and dialed Fraser's cell phone. Without Gordon he'd had to pinch hit as Chief Liaison Officer.

“Fraser, we got a lead on the SUV, I'm on my way over there to get you.” Without another word he hung up and grabbed his jacket.

_**Twenty minutes later....** _

“Hey, is Fraser in there?” Ray asked Turnbull as he sat at the reception desk just beyond the foyer of the consulate.

“Good morning, Ray, how are you this morning?” The blond mountie asked cheerfully. Sometimes Ray wondered how Turnbull made it through the world without being swindled out of everything he owned.

“I'm fine, Turnbull, is Fraser in there?” The lieutenant asked again.

“Yes, Constable Fraser is in Mr. Gordon's office, well, what used to be Mr. Gordon's office actually, I suppose it shall belong to someone else soon.” Ray had quit listening after 'Yes'. After a brief knock he let himself into the office. Fraser sat behind the desk, one ear clamped against the desk phone and his eyes focused on the computer screen on the desk. Diefenbaker sat beside the desk, his head resting on his paws. Curious, he looked up at the human but didn't move. Very little about the office had changed since the first time Ray had walked through the door. Inspector Meg Thatcher had been CLO in those days. She was a bonafide ice princess but at least she stood for something.

Fraser motioned for his longtime friend to sit in the armchair across the desk from him. Ray sipped the cup of coffee that kept him constant companion as he waited on the mountie to finish the phone conversation. Looking around he saw the stack of paperwork on the desk. The _in_ box was a lot fuller than the _out_ box.

“Ah, Ray, you said you had information about the vehicle?” The mountie hung the phone up, glad to get off the confounded contraption. He much preferred face to face interaction, always had.

“Yep, you ready to come with me on this one?” Ray leaned forward, his eyes twinkling like a hound on the hunt. As if he knew Fraser's answer already, Diefenbaker stood up and began to trot toward the door.

“Let me collect my hat.” A few moments later they walked out of the consulate together. The old patrol car Ray drove instead of the GTO sat outside the consulate waiting for them. The address of the Explorer owner was on the nicer side of town, with tree lined streets and garages full of new, Lexus cars. Doctors and lawyers called the cul de sac home.

“How did you get the lab to work so fast on the ATM footage, Ray?” Fraser asked, leaning into the right hand turn as Ray took it at well over the posted speed limit. The mountie didn't like breaking the speed limit, but he'd gotten used to it riding with Ray.

“I told 'em I'd buy pizza if they did it faster than the FBI lab guys.” Ray chuckled deviously.

“Ah, so you blatantly lied to them.”

“Yep, sure did.” Ray answered. Fraser simply nodded. He didn't know that he wouldn't have done something similar to speed the search for Ben.

“Here we go.” Ray pulled the car up in front of a brick monstrosity that must have cost nearly a million dollars, despite the state of the United States housing market's decline.

“This is William Robert Devane, 45, an accountant for a realty firm here in Chicago, a couple of speeding tickets, nothing serious.” Ray quickly informed the mountie walking briskly beside him. He thought of how he must look marching up to someone's front door beside the cheerfully red Canadian. Fraser nodded his understanding, his eyes meeting Ray's gaze before he rang the doorbell. A middle aged Latino woman wearing navy blue nursing scrubs answered the door. Her brown eyes quickly scanned Ray but stuck on Fraser as he stood on the cement stoop smiling politely.

“How may I help you?” The lady asked in barely accented English.

“Ma'am, we are here to see Mr. Devane, could you tell us if he's in just now?” The mountie doffed his Stetson with one hand and kept the other behind his back. A quizzical expression hovered over the woman's doe like eyes as she stood in the door way.

“Mr. Devane isn't at home, do you want to leave a message for him?” Nervous, the woman rummaged around in her scrubs pocket.

“I'm Lieutenant Raymond Kowalski, we'd like to talk to Mr. Devane about a 2010 Ford Explorer registered in his name.” Ray pulled a business card out of his inside jacket pocket and handed it to the lady. Taking it, she turned her attention to Fraser.

“Who's this, the police mascot or something?” Her dark brows lifted as she leaned against the door jamb.

“Constable Benton Fraser, ma'am, the authorities believe Mr. Devane's vehicle may have been used in a kidnapping.” The mountie studied the woman's reaction carefully, noting her breathing and where her eyes drifted off to. She shifted uncomfortably on her feet as she looked from Fraser to Ray then back over her shoulder. Before speaking again the woman crossed herself and stroked the small, silver cross dangling at her neck.

“Any information would be helpful, Ms.” Ray fished for the woman's name.

“I am Carmella Espinoza, Mr. Devane's housekeeper, I'm sorry but I can not help you, officer.” She fished out an ink pen from her pocket and wrote, _'Meet me in ten minutes at the corner of the street.'_ on the back of the business card before handing it back to Ray. Momentarily she winked at Fraser and closed the door.

Back in the Crown Vic, Ray handed the card to Fraser and cranked the engine. A few minutes later they were parked along the street, both of them scanning the sidewalk for Carmella. Neither of them said a word. What was there to say; they'd been solving cases together for so long nothing needed to be verbalized. Sure enough, ten minutes later Fraser spotted Carmella walking toward the car. Quickly, he shoved the back door open and she climbed in beside Diefenbaker, purse in hand.

“I didn't know what else to do, officers, Mr. Devane's brother was sitting in the living room.” She looked out the back window, hoping she hadn't been missed yet. “I left a note saying I'd gone to the market for dinner,” Carmella's dark eyes were wide and she'd become a shade paler.

“What's the deal with Devane, Ms. Espinoza?” Ray asked, his voice sounding harsher than he'd intended.

“My employer loaned the vehicle to his brother the night before last and he came back very early this morning without it. I don't know where it is. Mr. Devane has always had trouble with his brother, they do not get along. This morning they had a loud argument in the den. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but my employer stormed out shouting, _'I don't care what you do with him, just ditch the Explorer when you're finished.'_ I went into the kitchen and began using the garbage disposal to drown them out.” Carmella rubbed the cross around her neck as she spoke, fear shining in her big, brown eyes.

“What's the brother's name, Ms. Espinoza?” Ray turned around completely in the seat to look at her, as did Fraser.

“Jason Devane, I don't know very much about him, mostly I stay away from him when he visits my employer.” The housekeeper shuddered at the thought of dealing with Jason Devane.

“I take it Jason Devane has made inappropriate advances, Ms. Espinoza.” Fraser volunteered.

“Yes, Officer, that's one way to say it,” She smiled briefly at the younger man's politeness, “he's mean, as if he enjoys being viscous.” Carmella shook her head. It was the kind of behavior she would never understand.

“Thank you kindly for this information, Ms. Espinoza.” Fraser looked out he window beyond the woman sitting uncomfortably beside Diefenbaker.

“I wouldn't go back to work this afternoon, Ms. Espinoza, call your employer and make up a story 'er somethin'.” Ray shrugged. It was better to be safe than sorry.

“I will, I hope you catch the kidnappers, officers, men like Jason Devane should all be locked away from innocent people.” Quickly she patted both Ray and Fraser on the shoulders and exited the rear door.

“Ms. Espinoza, may we give you a ride somewhere?” Fraser called out after the woman.

“Fraser, we ain't got time to play taxi here, there's investigatin' to be done.” Ray whispered loudly as the woman turned around and walked back.

“I am keenly aware of that, Ray, but it would be easier for Jason Devane to find Ms. Espinoza if she walked home.” The mountie pointed out logically.

“Honestly, Fraser, are you some kind of Vulcan or somethin' ?” Ray groused shaking his head.

“No, I'm a RCMP officer, I haven't studied volcanoes since my grandmother made me write a ten page paper on Mount Vesuvius as punishment for getting my new mukluks dirty, she insisted that I use APA citation.” Fraser over-informed his unofficial partner, gesturing with his hat as he did so.

“Ten different spin-offs of _Star Trek_ and you haven't seen any of them, have you.” Ray groaned.

“Where to, Ms. Espinoza?” The police lieutenant asked, pulling the car into drive.

**Scene Break**


	14. Note

 After dropping Ms. Espinoza off just out of downtown Ray and Fraser cruised back to the police precinct. Neither of them had anything to say to the other, which was unusual, because Ray was a chatterbox. The majority of their cases hadn't been so personal, so close to home. Fraser felt as if the his one weakness had come back to bite him in the butt, just like she'd done almost fifteen years ago. No matter how long ago their time in Fortitude Pass had been she would always be his weakness. Victoria had seeped into his soul in those few, intense days spent hanging on to life by a thread. Her voice, her beautiful, angelic voice, had found a vulnerability in the mountie that he had never known he had until then. Something about her melodious, soothing tone had enraptured him; mesmerized him. Benton could visualize a whole new world through her words. When nights stretched on almost endlessly he would lay awake and try to recollect the words to the poem she'd recited countless times. Those were the nights he'd wake up dreaming he'd held her again in his arms and that everything was going to be alright. He could still taste her on his lips those golden, glorious dawnings. Benton always felt a little sad during the day following those wistful dreams.

“Here's the information you wanted, Lt. Kowalski, and there's a blonde woman waiting for you in your office, she's been here for over an hour, she's a real looker, that one.” Detective Midkiff handed Ray a sheaf of papers and pointed toward the office Ray had grown to dread. The wary lieutenant looked at the petite Canadian pacing his small office.

“You'd better not be lookin' buster.” Ray growled at him then turned his back on the charming detective. He pulled out his glasses and began skimming the freshly printed pages while Fraser walked on in.

“Hello, Maggie.” She turned on her heel and looked up at her half brother, fear and relief evident in her face. Aurora and Diefenbaker greeted each other then settled down on the floor of the office.

“I heard a knock at the door after you'd left and went to answer it, there was an envelope under the door.” Maggie pointed to a white, plastic grocery bag laying on Ray's desk. She'd followed evidence procedure as best as she could under the circumstances.

“Hey there, Maggie, did you come to eat lunch with us?” Ray grinned eagerly, the thought of getting to sit down and eat with the cute Canadian made his day.

“A ransom note was delivered to my apartment this morning, Ray, Maggie brought it to us to open and process.” Fraser summed up quickly. All of the delight in the lieutenant's face drained away.

“Did you get a look at the guy, Maggie?” He went back into investigator mode.

“Yes, but it was a young man with a delivery company, I took his name and other information if you'd like to question him, unfortunately he wasn't the one who took the delivery request.” She pulled a piece of paper from the hip pockets of her Wranglers and handed it to Ray. “I'm afraid I gained the information while he was under duress.” Both Ray and Fraser looked from the paper to the mighty, lady mountie. “I used a flying tackle to subdue the young man, he was quite fast on his bicycle.” Ray's eyebrows shot up at the mental image of the petite but powerful Canadian in action. A mysterious and kinda naughty gleam came into the American lieutenant's blue eyes before he went back to the task at hand.

“Good work there, Maggie, I'll have Midkiff question this guy.” The lieutenant opened the office door and barked for the detective to come toward him. Midkiff took the assignment and grabbed his coat. Fraser pulled a pair of latex exam gloves from box in the top drawer of his friend's desk and proceeded to open the white, business envelope using his hunting knife. Paper wasn't really the best thing for the sharp edge of the eight inch, stainless steel blade but it was trivial compared to the reason for using it. Ray and Maggie watched carefully as the mountie let the paper slide into the grocery bag.

 _“'Bring the money to 801 Alderson Street, noon on Wednesday. Don't bring the authorities or we'll kill the kid.'”_ Fraser read the words aloud typed in Times New Roman, size forty-eight font on common, white printer paper. “They've used a self-adhesive envelope to avoid fingerprints and DNA, Ray and there isn't a postage stamp to get either of those things off of either.” Fraser laid the bag back down and pulled the latex gloves off slowly before re-sheathing his knife.

“This one is a smart SOB.” Anger flared in the Chicago lieutenant's face as he picked up the phone and dialed the lab's extension. His stubby fingers stabbed the phone forcefully.

“What are we going to do, there never was any money hidden in Fortitude Pass, even if there was, it would be rotted away by now.” Maggie spoke, pacing the office again as her mind took her hundreds of miles away, to the frozen Yukon Territories.

“Catch these bastards, that's what.” Ray pronounced with determination.

 **Scene Break**   


	15. Search Warrant

 Ben woke up with a crick in his neck and a rumble in his stomach. Other urges had to be seen to as well. The boy missed sleeping in his narrow bed at the childrens' home. It hadn't been much but Ben was used to making due. Moving from place to place, he and Victoria had lived in low rent apartments and eaten their fair share of peanut butter and pinto beans. Even so, he'd never gone hungry because there wasn't anything in the house to eat. Victoria had worked as a waitress mostly, when she wasn't involved with bank robberies. She'd bring Ben back hamburgers, milkshakes and french fries occasionally. Whenever possible she cooked real meals with vegetables and meat. If Ben went hungry it was because he'd been stubborn and hadn't eaten what she fixed.

“Hey, is anyone there, I have to go to the bathroom.” Ben yelled into the darkness beyond the vehicle.

“Quit yer yammerin' there kid, some of us are trying to sleep.” The lunkhead's voice shouted out from somewhere near the Ford. The kidnapper kicked something in the dark and swore loudly as he walked more cautiously on the cement floor.

“If I don't get to the bathroom soon I'm going to have to pee all over the seats of this vehicle.” Ben warned, hoping it would be incentive enough for them to let him urinate. He'd felt cooped up too long to care.

“Don't you dare.” Lunkhead jerked open the back door and hauled Ben out with one hand. He took the dark bandana and tied it around Ben's eyes. Roughly, he was hauled inside the house and through the kitchen.

“Here, piss in there.” A door closed behind Lunkhead but Ben could still hear him rustling around on the other side. “Try anything and I'll pop you right there in the john, got it kid?” Lunkhead shouted through the door.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you.” Ben slipped the bandana off his eyes and looked around. Aqua green tiles lined the walls halfway up the wall the boy stood facing. A single row of black tile met white plaster that had seen cleaner days. A narrow window above the toilet was too small to get more than Ben's arm out of so it wouldn't be a good escape route. A dust and gunk ridden tub sat to the right of the miniscule bathroom. The entire room was only about seven foot long by five feet wide. If stench had a Richter scale this bathroom would have scored a ten point five for it's pungent aroma. Shuddering, Ben took care of his business and tried to flush the disgustingly nasty toilet, to no avail.

“Whew, this is worse smelling than the time I had to hide out in a bear carcass for three days one July.” A familiar, male voice sounded behind Ben as he started to refasten his jeans.

“Oh dear.” The boy gasped, surprised to see his grandfather standing in the tub wearing full, arctic gear. “What are you doing here, you nearly scared the life out of me.” Ben took a deep breath to get his stomach back in place.

“Ah, I never know where I'll show up, Benton and I have had some of our best conversations in the strangest places.” Robert Fraser shrugged, his hands behind his back as he stood in the crud covered, porcelain tub.

“Hey, kid, who you talking to in there, you got a cell phone stashed or somethin'?” Lunkhead began to jangle the door knob.

“Just talking to myself, that's all.” Ben shouted as he turned the faucet on to wash his hands.

“Can you tell Aunt Maggie or my father where I'm at?” The boy asked, his eyes wide.

“Afraid not, Son, I'm only here as part of your subconscious.” The old mountie sighed as he looked at the hideous tiles surrounding them.

“Well what good are you then?” Ben lamented, murky water trickling out of the tap.

“There's not much use for me I suppose, but here I am just the same.” Robert Fraser smiled for a moment at the irony of the situation.

“Done or raw, kid, I'm comin' in.” Lunkhead warned before throwing open the cheap, wooden door. His ski mask only revealed his dark brows and hazel eyes as he retied the bandana around Ben's eyes. Again, the boy was hustled out into the garage and shoved back in the rear of the Explorer. This time Lunkhead had thought to grab more pizza. It was leftover, but still edible. Pulling off the bandana, Ben missed his mom's peanut butter and apple butter sandwiches as he gnawed on hard, pizza crust. It had been a Saturday tradition they'd had before she'd been caught. Together they'd have peanut butter and apple butter sandwiches on wheat bread with chocolate milk. When they could, they'd go to the movies and sneak snack inside the theater in her big purse.

“So, how are you going to get out of this one, son?” Robert Fraser spoke out of the darkness as he sat in the front seat. The boy eyed him contemptuously for a moment before answering.

“I haven't figured that out yet, do you have any ideas?” He squirmed around in the rear seat to retrieve his knife from the pocket on the back of the front seat.

“None at all, but I bet Benton would have gotten himself free by now, he always was a resourceful boy growing up.” The old mountie chuckled to himself as if he were remembering an inside joke.

“What is with his name any way, why _'Benton'_?” Ben asked, as he looked around the vehicle for ideas.

“It was his mother's choice, it's a good, English name, means Ben's town or town on the moor, something like that.” The old Mountie began twiddling his thumbs as he sat in the front seat, twisted around to face Ben.

“Ah, glad I got the short version.” The boy rolled his eyes.

“You don't call him _'Dad'_ do you.” Robert Fraser observed. Ben just shrugged as if it wasn't important.

“It would be kind of weird, calling a stranger _'Dad'_ , I mean my mom isn't exactly the most truthful person, what if he isn't my real dad?” Ben threw his head back against the headrest, frustration setting in.

“Benton is my son biologically, but I wasn't much of a real dad for him. Would it be so bad to call him _'Dad'_?” Robert Fraser watched the boy hang his head, hiding his feelings as he did.

“I guess not, but it's still weird, I mean we don't really know each other, I've only been here five or six days and two of that I've spent in the back of this SUV.” Ben growled. He wanted out so badly.

“You'll get your chance, son, just wait and watch closely.” With a mysterious gleam in his eye Robert Fraser disappeared.

“Thanks, Grandpa.” The boy shook his head helplessly.

**Scene Break**

Rain clouds began to gather as Ray and Maggie set out to serve a search warrant to search William Robert Devane's house and garage. Ray had been very specific in asking to search the garage, he'd had a few warrants go south over the years because they weren't specific enough. If Devane owned a blade of grass, Ray wanted to be able to examine it.

“How's Fraser holding up, he seems too cool, too quiet, I know he's like that, but somethin' ain't right.” Ray took Maggie's smaller hand in his free one, squeezing her fingers gently. She turned to look at him, a weary smile pulling on her features.

“Benton isn't saying much, he's very private, even with me. I do know he feels deeply responsible for young Ben. He missed having his father around growing up and feels like he's let Ben down in the same way.” Maggie propped her elbow on the window sill, her head leaned on her hand.

“How's he think he's the same as his father, Fraser didn't know about Ben until last week.” Ray reasoned as he took a right hand turn too fast in the old Crown Vic.

“Benton missed the opportunity to give Ben what he never received from our father.” Maggie answered. How someone felt wasn't necessarily tied to how things actually were in reality.

“Chicks give Fraser their numbers every day of the week and he never gives 'em the time of day, I've never understood that.” Something about the big, red, polite mountie acted like a chick magnet, always had.

“But none of them were Victoria.” A bitter resentment welled up through Maggie's voice when she spoke the woman's name. She'd caused Benton nothing but heartache and loneliness. Ray heard the emotion but said nothing.

A few minutes later Ray and Maggie pulled up in front of Wm. Robert Devane's nice, brick house. Uniformed officers sat outside waiting on the lieutenant to arrive. Midkiff walked up to his boss and flashed the cute blonde a wickedly charming smile by way of hello.

“Lt. Kowalski, everything is in place, we're ready to enter when you are.” After glaring at Midkiff for flirting with Maggie, Ray took the warrant up to the front door. Just as he started to knock he heard a voice call out.

“What's going on here, why are the police in my driveway?” A gruff voiced man demanded as he stormed up the front lawn toward Ray.

“Mr. Wm. Robert Devane?” He asked, eying the bespectacled accountant.

“Yes, that's me, now tell me why there are cops parked in my driveway.” In his mid-forties, Wm. Robert looked like a man who spent most of his time with numbers. He wore wire rimmed glasses and a yellow polo shirt with his khakis.

“We have reason to believe that a 2010 Ford Explorer licensed in your name was used in a kidnapping, we'd like to speak to you and your brother, Mr. Devane.” Ray spoke in a brisk, professional manner. Maggie and Aurora leaned against the Crown Vic, watching the show.

“I have no idea where my brother is, Officer. He has my Explorer, he borrowed it a few days ago, that's not uncommon, but that doesn't explain, again, why there are cops swarming my house.” Wm. Robert pushed up nose to nose with Ray, his face as red as a fire engine.

“There here because I intend to turn your house up side down until I find the fourteen year old boy that you, your brother and Mark Gordon abducted from _Chicago Ice_ rink Sunday afternoon.” Ray pushed back, his index finger prodding the accountant backward as he jabbed it into his chest.

“Sir, we've cleared the house and the garage, both are empty.” A burly, African-American officer strode up to Ray and interrupted the heated conversation. A smug expression on the accountant's face made Ray extremely angry. Maggie saw her boyfriend's jaw begin to work and his nostrils flare even from a distance. She stepped up to where he stood, only inches away from the cocky SOB. With a gentle hand she pulled Ray back toward the driveway.

“Sir, I'm sure that you are aware that if anything happens to my nephew and you were somehow involved in the kidnapping, you will be charged as well.” She leveled an arctic blue gaze at him that would have stopped a raging bull, then she leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “ _If_ there's anything left after I and my wolf have finished with you.” He looked down at the white wolf growling at his feet, her long, sharp fangs bared as she snarled up at him. Wm. Robert Devane shrank back from the bristling animal. Maggie turned and walked back to the car, Aurora still growling low in her throat. The lady mountie spoke the part wolf's name and snapped her fingers loudly.

“I'd listen to her if I were you, buster, she's little but she's dangerous.” Ray walked off, a certain cocky spring to his step as he watched Maggie get into the car.

“Sir, we just received word, Mr. Devane owns a rental house near the rail yard.” Midkiff walked up to Ray's car window, cell phone in hand and a dark expression on his usually placid face.

“That address isn't on the search warrant, we can't do diddly squat about it.” Ray slammed his hand against the steering wheel.

“No, Sir, it isn't, I'm sorry.” The detective raised his hands in defeat. One cop car in the driveway and Devane would have a lawsuit filed against the department. Ray's hands were tied.

“Where is the rental property, Detective Midkiff?” Maggie asked calmly. The Chicago lieutenant turned to look at his girlfriend, wondering what was up her red, mountie sleeve.

“511 Dickenson Street.” Midkiff responded after looking at the email on his phone.

“Ray, would you kindly drive me to the Canadian Consulate?” The lady mountie had an idea she wanted to run by Fraser.

**Scene Break**


	16. Explorer

 Daylight hours slipped by as if in endless darkness for Ben. He tried to keep quiet, hoping that the guard at the door would get bored; maybe sleep or get distracted enough for him to seize whatever opportunity presented itself to him. His grandfather didn't show up with anymore vague advice. At least that would have helped pass the time. When he quit hearing anything or anyone rustling around in the dark, Ben moved into the front passenger seat. He opened the glove box and found an Illinois state road map, vehicle registration and proof of insurance along with the vehicle's owner's manual. The latter he laid aside for later, it might give him an idea. In the console Ben found a tire gauge, a few Illinois State bank ink pens, as well as a few bits of things that didn't inspire the boy at all. He sat for a long time surveying the tools at hand; a pocket knife, ink pens, and a Ford Explorer owner's manual. The answer was there, Ben just didn't see it yet.

“What would Fraser or Maggie do?” The boy asked himself over and over. After a while he laid the front seat back and went to sleep.

**Scene Break**

“Hello, Turnbull, is Constable Fraser busy right now?” Maggie asked, a hopeful sparkle in her pale eyes. As usual, the carefree mountie began to list a dozen things that Fraser could be doing. He meant well, but he was annoying even to Maggie, who had the patience of Job with him.

“Thank you kindly, Turnbull, I'll check myself.” The determined lady marched up to the CLO's office door and knocked. Fraser beckoned her inside. From the way he worked his jaw and the firm set to his mouth, she could tell he was frustrated and not just by the computer application he was working on as well as talking on the phone. Politely but quickly, he hung up the phone and saved his work on the confounded computer.

“Maggie, Ray, hello,” He stood up and adjusted his red serge as he looked from one familiar face to the other. Ray looked confused and discomfited while Maggie looked as though she were brimming with ideas.

“The search warrant I told you about turned up nada, Devane has rental property, but since it wasn't listed in the original warrant, we can't do anything about it.” Ray was the first to speak, his hands on his hips as he began to pace the office.

“I've had an idea about finding Ben,” The lady mountie bit her lip as she tried to organize the thoughts she'd been having, the plan her mind had been formulating. “The Explorer has a GPS unit and a very sophisticated alarm system, we could have it hacked into, that would lead us to Jason Devane.” She didn't know why she hadn't thought of it before.

“How'd you know all that, Maggie?” Ray looked at her puzzled.

“I saw the alarm system he had in the sedan he drove, it stands to reason he would have one in the SUV as well, he's a very tidy, possessive man from the records you have for him.” She thought back to the file she'd skimmed briefly some hours before. Wm. Robert Devane was unmarried, had no children and owned an immaculate, million dollar, brick home. Confirmed bachelors of his age and occupation were often very particular about their belongings.

“Do we have enough circumstantial evidence to ask for an amended search warrant, Ray?” Fraser walked around the desk to join his best friend and his sister.

“Oh yeah, Jason Devane has an arrest record that stretches back into juvie, his brother's been bailing him out his whole life, I know a judge or two who won't mind.” A devious tone in the lieutenant's voice was only the tip of the iceberg. Ray knew a judge or two who wouldn't want certain private matters brought to the public, or their wives', attention. They'd roll over easily.

“Let me collect my hat and we can be on our way.” Fraser strode purposely to the coat stand for his Stetson.

“Guess you finally came into the twenty-first century there, Mag.” Ray grinned like a goofy teenager as he and Maggie laced fingers, Fraser following them out the door.

“One must never lose the ability to adapt.” She cocked an eyebrow at him coquettishly and smiled.

“I'd just as soon continued on with the twentieth century myself.” Fraser lamented under his breath. Turnbull watched them leave in complete oblivion as to what was going on.

**Scene Break**

Victoria lay awake in her cell thinking about Ben, wondering how he was getting along. She hadn't seen him in far too long. In her mind's eye she saw him as the little boy who had run and played, pretending he was a cowboy or a space alien in the yard. It all slipped by so quickly, the time she'd had with Ben. What time she'd had with his father had slipped by even quicker. The convicted felon remembered well the time she'd first spent in Benton Fraser's arms during the storm in Fortitude Pass. He'd risked his own life against all odds to track her down and then to save her life. She'd ran from him, at first, but then, cold and delirious, she'd sat down in the snow and waited for him to catch up. Instead of lecturing her or asking a thousand questions, Benton had shucked out of his arctic coat and used it to shield them both from the below freezing temperatures and ripping wind gusts. Had the shoe been on the other foot, Victoria knew she'd have left him to die in the blizzard. The warmth Benton shared with her was more than physical. His simple act of kindness, of selfless duty, had touched her somewhere she'd forgotten she had. Until the moment that mountie wrapped his arms around her and forced her to speak to him, she'd been absolutely numb inside. She'd been in the arms of other men, but none of them had sought to give her comfort. Benton expected nothing for saving her life, giving of himself to the point of causing self-destruction. For the first time in her life, Victoria knew what real love felt like. She'd once heard a visiting preacher at the prison say, _“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friend.”_ _ *****_ That one statement summed up Benton Fraser to her. She ached inside to feel his arms around her and hear his voice again just the way she had years before. In her way, Victoria had loved him the only way she knew how-physically. He'd accepted it, giving her much more than she could ever give him in return. Afterward they'd sat together on a rise just beyond the outpost, looking up at the Northern Lights silently. He was a man of few words at times. With her head on Benton's shoulder she'd asked him to let her go, to release her from his custody. She wanted to love him, but wanted her freedom more.

“I can't do that, Victoria, I'm honor bound to take you to the outpost.” The sadness in his voice lingered with her every time Victoria thought about that night, their first night. Benton had been a perfect gentleman, attentive in every way. She'd been scared and selfish. His feelings hadn't entered her mind in the least.

Their second time together, in Chicago, she'd unleashed her anger on him. Fraser took her fists pounding against his chest and pressed her tighter against him until her fury blew itself out; until she wilted in his arms. He simply accepted it, and her, without question or suspicion. In return she left him laying on the train platform with a bullet wound to the back. She'd left him for dead as he should have left her in Fortitude Pass. Tears came flooding from Victoria's eyes as the memories overwhelmed her senses. Quietly, she cried herself to sleep, wishing she could undo the damage she'd done to someone who only wanted to do what was right, who only wanted to love her. Time couldn't erase the pain she'd caused him.

**Scene Break**

**Author's Note:** I would have had Ben hot wire the vehicle, but I don't know how to do it myself. I suppose I could have had him fool with the garage door, but I don't know anything about 

them either.

*The Bible John 15:13    


	17. Hacker

 Gray clouds moved across the sky as Ray drove two mounties and two wolf-dogs toward the police precinct he called home. He'd already called the first judge on his list and only waited on the warrant to arrive from the judge's office. None of the three had much to say as they rode though late afternoon traffic. Their minds were long gone in three different directions. Benton ignored the speedy way Ray drove, his mind wherever his son had the misfortune of being held. He wondered if the boy had eaten, if he was warm enough and when he'd see him again. Fraser had thought of little else since the afternoon before at the ice rink. Thinking of Ben brought back old thoughts of Victoria. He wondered if she were doing well in prison, and if she were wondering about Ben, and about him.

Benton didn't realize at first that the car had quit moving, his thoughts still bouncing around. Ray had to smack the Mountie on the shoulder before he'd move.

“Geez Louise, Fraser, spaced out there?” The lieutenant grinned playfully as he opened his car door.

“Oh, sorry, Ray.” The Mountie gave a halfhearted smile and looked away.

Inside the bull pen Detective Midkiff waited with the warrant in hand. The southern detective's eyes immediately went to Maggie. She was quite a figure in her Wranglers the white t-shirt with the red, maple leaf of Canada emblazoned on it. Her light blonde hair bounced happily in a low ponytail. Ray moved in protectively, glaring at his junior detective.

“The warrant came through just fine, Lieutenant Kowalski.” Det. Midkiff handed him the paperwork and shot a wink toward Maggie before turning around to talk to another detective.

“Det. Midkiff, take this warrant, serve Devane at his house, his office, whatever.” He turned back to the two Canadians with a broad smile. “Alright, on the road again.” Before Benton even had time to remove his Stetson he had to put it back on. Ray took Maggie by the elbow and guided her back through the hallway toward the tech lab, Fraser and the dogs in tow.

 ***** Tech geniuses are perceived as nerds with glasses a caffeine addiction and comic book hero crushes. Drew was no exception to the stereotype. Action figures of the Green Lantern and Thor sat on top of the LCD display in front of the lackluster looking tech man.

“Drew, the voodoo priest of all things digital, what can you do with GPS units and alarm systems?” Ray grinned, confident that the twenty-something, white guy seated in an office chair in front of three computer screens would produce results.

“Whatever you need, Lieutenant Kowalski.” Drew pushed his glasses up and toyed with the clear spacer he wore to keep his lip ring hole open. Ray watched him play with the spacer, his stomach turning at the sight of it. He didn't know why, but people adjusting earrings and piercings made him squeamish, always had.

“I need you to find this guy's Ford Explorer, Drew, ASAP, 'er sooner.” The lieutenant plunked down the information in front of him then turned to find something distracting to look at.

“Give me a few minutes, Sir, and I should be able to give you an exact location.” Drew began typing on an open application, delving deep into the alarm company's database. Two minutes into the search he took a drink of something Ray was positive had way too much caffeine in it. The young man began typing fast, faster than Fraser, who typed ninety words a minute. Ray began watching the tech guy to see if he blinked. If Drew did, the lieutenant missed it.

“This is going to take longer than I thought, Sir, if you'll call in an hour or so I should be able to get the information.” Drew whirled around in the office chair abruptly, nearly knocking his boss backward.

“What seems to be the trouble?” Fraser asked, his brows knit in concern. He had to get to Ben, and soon; the dead line was a little over thirty-six hours away.

“The alarm company's system is currently offline in order to update, I'm having to go through their back logs to find the vehicle. They have a seriously sluggish system right now and I have to retrieve the files manually, if only red taper were licorice...” That's as far as Drew got with his explanation before Ray waved him off. Technical stuff made the lieutenant's eyes glaze over.

“I'm sure it will all be in your report, the more we talk the longer it takes you to find the Explorer.” Ray hitched one thumb toward the door, hating to but having to leave.

“What can we do in the mean time?” Maggie asked, her concern growing by the minute. She felt they were close and detested a delay for any reason.

“We should re-examine all the evidence, the surveillance footage, testimony, everything.” Fraser recommended.

“Yeah, sounds good, I'll call the Alaskan authorities, see what they've gotten out of Stonesbury.” Ray rubbed his chin for a moment, deep in thought.

“I'll get all of us something to eat, it's going to be a long evening.” Maggie offered, mostly to get out of the stale air of the bull pen. Dief and Aurora tagging along, she made her way out of the precinct building and down the sidewalk toward a nearby deli. People milled around in the cloudy afternoon. An ever present breeze drifted through the crowd, rustled up by all the passing cars. Looking all around, Maggie saw untold tons of steel, glass and concrete. She didn't know how Fraser did it, stay in the city day after day. She longed to be home, where there were dozens of different kinds of birds within earshot, as well as dirt and trees to be seen in every direction. The view was limitless in the Yukon. Chicago felt like living in a fishbowl, albeit a very large one. With a sigh she pushed open the door to the deli, making sure that the dogs waited outside on the sidewalk. The lady Mountie wondered if Ben had eaten anything and wished with all her heart he were back, safe and sound. Waiting in line she thought about seeing the boy, his green eyes and the way his nut brown hair ruffled into duck tails, reminded Maggie of Benton so much. The little characteristics he showed without even knowing were as conclusive as any DNA test ever could be, Ben was a Fraser.

“What can I get for you?” A teenage girl asked, her hair in a high pony tail over an eager smile.

“Yes, three, foot long turkey sandwiches on wheat bread, fully dressed with bacon please.” Maggie fished in her hip pocket for her credit card as she moved on through the line along the small deli counter. Even seeing Ray's face light up when she walked into his office didn't dispel all of the sadness she felt.

“Hey there, Mountie girl, what'd you get us?” The lieutenant winked mischievously at her as he sat with one ear plastered to the phone, on hold.

“Ray!” She mouthed, cocking her head towards Fraser who sat with his nose in the case file. Ray just grinned bigger as he took the foot long sandwich and bottled water she handed him.

“Fraser, here you go.” The lady Mountie nudged her half brother's foot with the toe of her hiking boot. He jumped, startled.

“Oh, Maggie, I didn't realize you were back.” He pasted a polite smile on his face but couldn't hide the sorrow in his crystalline green eyes from her.

“Turkey on wheat, fully dressed, with bacon.” She smiled too, reassuring, and took a seat with the boys. Ray unwrapped his sandwich and began to eat when he heard someone speak on the other end of the phone line. He had a mouth full of bread when he tried to answer.

“Hello, yes, I'm here, Mr. Horton.” The eager lieutenant leaned forward, laying down his dinner and picking up an ink pen. “So, Henry Stonesbury lawyer-ed up and won't talk, eh?” Ray began rubbing the bridge of his nose, frustrated, annoyed, and more than a little pissed. “Alright, well thanks for getting back to me, have a good evening.” With a noise that was somewhere between a defeated sigh and an angry growl, Ray hung up the phone.

“No luck in Alaska?” Maggie asked, frowning. Ray just shook his head.

“There's something missing from this case, something important, there has to be a trail of some kind between the Devane brothers, Mark Gordon and Henry Stonesbury.” Fraser answered, his eyes still searching the case file.

“Ray, has Mark Gordon posted bail yet?” The lady Mountie suddenly interjected.

“No, why?” The boss answered, confused. He'd been around Maggie and Fraser long enough to know that they were usually two steps ahead of him and thinking too fast to stop and explain things. It was better just to roll with them.

“His phone, he does everything on it, calling, texting, e-mailing, everything.” She put aside her dinner and stood up.

“If it is a consulate phone we won't be able to get into it, even if we did, anything we learned would be inadmissible in court.” Ray thought aloud.

“We should find Ben now and worry about the details later.” Maggie glared at him.

“She's quite right, Ray, sometimes it is better to ask forgiveness than permission.” Fraser never thought he'd hear himself saying that, but that had been before he'd had a son to consider.

“You stay here, Ray.” Maggie smiled and shot him a wink telling him everything would be alright.

Mounties, with dogs following, strolled down to booking to talk with the sergeant in charge of personal property. Sgt. Patrick McAvoy had been with the CPD for the last thirty years and knew his business backwards and forwards. His storage room, surrounded by woven cages, was as organized as any library. Cubbyholes lined three walls of the narrow space. A single, fluorescent light hung over the desk where he had both a typewriter and a computer.

“Hello, Constable Fraser, Constable McKenzie, how are you today?” The older man's thick, white eye brows and considerable girth made him look more like Santa than a policeman.

“We're fine, Officer McAvoy, I was wondering if I could see Mark Gordon's belongings, please.” Fraser asked, looking the man in the eye steadily.

“He's the one what's mixed up with your boy's kidnapping, isn't he.” The officer's voice sounded from somewhere deep within his body.

“Yes.” Fraser answered truthfully. He hesitated to elaborate, lying wasn't one of his strengths.

“Just a minute and I'll have 'em out for you.” With a nod the officer turned to the storage room behind him. Maggie and Benton exchanged furtive glances, both of them hoping he didn't ask a lot of questions.

“Will you be needing to sign it out, Constable Fraser.” McAvoy laid the plastic bag on the counter between his storage room and the hallway.

“No, I just need to get a number out of it, thank you kindly, Officer McAvoy.” Benton touched the screen of the device as it lay in the corner of the bag, along with Gordon's wallet and keys. Immediately the cell phone lit up, it's battery still half charged. He had to study the lay out of the pint sized phone, fumbling with the icons.

“Here, let me, Benton.” Maggie navigated easily to the recent calls menu. Benton looked at her puzzled, he learned something new every day about her. She smiled up at him with an innocent expression.

“Ray and I keep in touch over the internet, it's cheaper than long distance.” She explained with a shrug.

“Ah, seems you have the advantage here, Maggie.” The Mountie shook his head and sighed. Sometimes he felt like he'd been born in the wrong century. Times had moved so quickly. The world felt a little stranger everyday.

“I don't like it any better than you do, Benton, but we must remain adaptable.” She gave him an answer that sounded just like one he'd have given her had the situation been reversed.

“Ah, here we are,” Fraser saw a number he didn't recognize, one with a 907 area code. “Officer McAvoy, may I have a pen and paper please?” Quickly, the Mountie jotted the number down as Maggie continued scrolling through the long list. McAvoy watched the pair intently. It wasn't like Fraser not to be forthcoming.

“Thank you kindly, Sgt. McAvoy.” Maggie exited out of the menu and handed the plastic bag with the neatly typed label on it back.

“No problem, Constable Mac Kenzie, anytime.” The old sergeant watched the pair walk away, Aurora in the lead, Diefenbaker bringing up the rear.

**Scene Break**

**Author's Note:** I must apologize for the use of such vocabulary in this chapter as I've been watching _Pride and Prejudice_ , the BBC miniseries. Benton Fraser does rather remind me of darling Mr. Darcy. **=)**


	18. Too Much Love

 Ben sat looking at the things he'd assembled, wondering how in the round world he'd free himself. The boy thought back to the day before, the day he'd spent with his dad. The more he thought about it the more he wanted to get out. It was nice, having someone to teach him things, someone he could talk to. Victoria had tried her best to listen to him, but she was also busy providing for him. He didn't fault her for that.

Ben had often asked about his biological father, what he looked like, where he was, his name, anything. It took her fourteen years to tell him a single detail, and then she'd done it in a letter. At the time Ben had thought how cowardly it was of her not to tell him face to face. He was too young to understand how difficult it is to think someone you love will be disappointed in you. The boy had felt that way, but didn't connect it to how his mother had felt. Still, she did tell him and sent him the picture of Benton. So many questions filled Ben's mind as he sat on the front seat of the Explorer. How could two people so unlike find enough in common to get close enough to make a child? Why hadn't his mother told Fraser he had a son? Why hadn't she told him any details about his father?

The boy thought back to those times when his mother would take his face gently in her hands and study him for a moment before kissing his forehead. Ben had always wondered at the odd, wistful, longing expression on her face. Winter days, when the snow flakes would drift lazily down, she would stare out the window for hours after Ben had gone to bed. He'd gotten up once in the middle of the night when he was about eight and saw her sitting on the couch, staring into the darkness as the snow fell outside, crying. Afraid, he'd gone to her and asked,

“Mommy, what's wrong, why are you crying?” He remembered the way his mother had scooped him up in her arms, pulling him onto her lap and holding him tightly. She hadn't answered him at first. When she did it was in a hoarse whisper.

“Nothing is wrong, baby, I'm just a little sad is all.” Victoria had dried her face and dished them both out a small bowl of fudge ripple ice cream, even though it was the middle of the night. Ben remembered it so clearly.

“Hey, kid, what are you doing in there?” The lunkhead asked from the doorway. Ben could see light behind him from the kitchen of the house, but not the man's face.

“Just trying to get a more comfortable seat, that's all.” Frantic, Ben dropped the things he'd collected in floorboard at his feet and shuffled them beneath the seat with his heels.

“You're being too quiet in here, makes me suspicious, or ain't it warm enough in Canada to make noise?” Lunkhead laughed at his own lame joke.

“My dad is Canadian, my mom is from Alaska, moron.” Ben rolled his eyes. He wondered why he hadn't outsmarted this adult yet.

“Hell froze over is still hell, kid, don't matter how you dice it up.” Lunkhead came closer, his booted feet scuffing across the cement carefully. “Where did your mother hide that money anyway, some pass somewhere?”

“We never talked about it, OK, why does everyone keep asking me about that stupid money she stole ten years before I was even born.” Ben complained. It had been all anyone wanted to talk about after Victoria had gotten caught on the last robbery. Lawyers, kids at school, everyone, asked him where the money was hidden. The only people who hadn't asked him about it were Maggie, Ray and his dad. Ben banged his head against the head rest of the front seat, wishing he were anywhere else but sitting in that Ford Explorer, in the dark.

“Half a million dollars free and clear that's why, kid, it ain't as much as it used to be, but it beats nothing.” Lunkhead answered, his voice very near by to the vehicle.

“That won't be very much once you split it between the four of you.” Ben reasoned, trying to pump information out of his captor.

“Nah, see my brother says we can get out of the country and not have to split it but two ways, mine and his, they got one of the other guys, the one we dropped off before we got here.” Lunkhead bragged eagerly. Brains had never been his strength.

“What are you going to do with your part of the money if you get it?” The boy began fiddling with an ink pen absentmindedly.

“I don't know yet, but my brother says we ought to go our separate ways when we get the money, he says I should go to a country without an extradition treaty, I think that's what he called it.” A shrug in his voice told Ben he wasn't the brightest crayon in the box.

“How are you going to get there?” He dug a little deeper.

“I don't know, Willie says he'll take care of it.” Lunkhead didn't even realize he'd let his brother's name slip. “Willie, see, he's always been the boss, me, I'm better at just doing what he tells me, I learned how to hot wire a car when I was eleven.” He sounded proud of that.

Ben shook his head, he was better than average at doing such things too. He'd been stealing small amounts of money from people since his mother's arrest, planning to leave the children's home for Chicago.

“Why don't you take the money and run, without your brother?” Ben took the ink pen cartridge and began fiddling with it as Lunkhead thought for a moment.

“Willie, he's the one with the passports and all the connections.” It took the kidnapper a full three minutes to answer the question.

“How did your brother know who I was, who my mother is anyway?” The thought occurred to him that Lunkhead's brother may just kill him and anyone else who didn't serve his purpose.

“He met this guy from Alaska last year at some convention, they got to talking over drinks at the hotel bar and things kinda went from there.” Lunkhead tried to remember what the guy's name was but drew a blank.

“How did the guy know my mom?” Experimentally, Ben stuck the cartridge into the handcuff lock and began working it around inside.

“She was caught in Canada trying to get away, the police never found the money and he wants it back and revenge.” It didn't tell Ben anything specific but someone could always look it up after he'd gotten free.

“Who was the other guy in the car yesterday, it wasn't you, or your brother?” Ben wondered aloud. He tried very hard to keep the handcuffs quiet in case they came unlocked. The boy didn't know what he could do against an armed man, but he knew he had to have his hands free.

“Ha! That schmuck was your dad's boss, kid.” Lunkhead chuckled.

“Mr. Gordon?” The revelation wasn't much of a surprise, the guy had been too squirrely.

“I guess he's not a goody two shoes like your ole' man, kid.” The kidnapper sighed, a chuckle dying in his throat.

“Or my Aunt Maggie or Constable Turnbull.” Thought Ben to himself. “I guess not.” He said aloud. The handcuffs unlocked with a small click. It was hard not to get excited, the metal restraints had been biting into his wrists for hours.

“Are you hungry, there's some more pizza in the house.” Lunkhead offered, “it's fresh, I just got it an hour ago.”

“Yes, thanks.” Ben answered, hoping he could get away soon. Quickly, the put the handcuffs back around his wrist but didn't lock them. Lunkhead shuffled off to the house, his feet dragging across the cement.

“I've got to get out of here.” Ben shoved open the vehicle door, grabbed his knife and began feeling his way around the garage, hoping it had a door to the outside. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind as his hands fumbled along the wall feeling the cool brick beneath his fingers. When his hands hit the wooden frame of a door he heard the door to the house open.

“Here you go, kid, pepperoni pizza.” Lunkhead opened the vehicle door but saw no one, and then he swore. “It's not a good idea to run, kid, I'll have to kill you, or my brother will kill me.” Lunkhead dropped the pizza on the seat and turned the overhead light on. After so many hours in the dark, Ben couldn't see a single thing around him. Instinctively, he searched for the doorknob. When it wouldn't open Ben shoved his shoulder into the rotting wood, praying for it to break through.

“Hey, kid, I don't want to do this, but my brother, he gets real mean.” The kidnapper couldn't see anything either. After a third shove the door broke through, dumping Ben out into the side yard. Tripping over his own two feet, the boy began running. When he heard the shot ring out Ben ducked, and hit the dirt. Lunkhead pinned him to the ground. The boy wanted to cry but wouldn't.

“I won't shoot you this time, kid, but I am gonna have to tie you up tighter.” The kidnapper yanked Ben up by the back of his shirt and took him back to the garage. Unceremoniously, he dumped the boy in the backseat of the Explorer and went to find some rope.

“Let me go, you'll get the money.” Ben shouted as he settled down on the seat.

“I really am sorry, kid, but I can't do that, Willie would kill me.” Lunkhead's voice took on a tremble, as if he were certain of what he was saying. Ben let him tie his hands and feet with an old clothes line. He didn't see any hope of getting away. He knew how his mother felt sitting in prison.

**Scene Break**


	19. The Storm

 About ten o'clock Maggie finally put her smaller foot down and made Ray and Fraser leave the precinct for the night. She'd been cooped up too long and knew that Aurora and Dief felt the same way.

“It won't do Ben any good it we're all too tired to think clearly.” The lady mountie may have been a third smaller than either her brother or her boyfriend, but they both had a habit of asking how high when she said jump, even if they didn't realize they were doing it. The dogs stood up, instinctively understanding the humans were getting ready to go somewhere. Aurora wasn't used to sitting still for so long, being in doors all day, smelling unpleasant chemicals, and being ignored by her human. She gathered that the alpha male's offspring had gone missing, but the young she-wolf still wanted to go for a walk and sniff a few trees.

“I guess the forensics lab has my number.” Ray stood up and grabbed his jacket, ready to go. His hip joint cracked like a .22 rifle as he straightened up.

“Are you a little stiff there, Ray?” Maggie teased. The lieutenant gave her a withering stare then stretched the rest of his joints, sounding like a bowl of Rice Crispies.

“A little, yeah.” He shrugged.

“You don't get enough exercise, Ray.” Maggie began her lecture on the benefits of physical exertion on a regular basis. Ray on the other hand could think of a dozen other things he'd rather do than spend time in the gym. Most of them involved Maggie and are better left unpublished here.

“Hey, Fraser, does she tie in on you like this?” The Chicago police lieutenant asked quietly as he walked with his Canadian partner out the door.

“Yes, Ray, she does.” Fraser toyed with his hat, brushing off the stiff brim.

**Scene Break**

Fraser sat down on the love seat, his elbows resting on his knees, his face resting on the heels of his hands. He felt like he'd spent all day trying to pull the _Titanic_ from the Atlantic by himself. Diefenbaker laid down beside him, his head leaning against Fraser's knee. A rough, but gentle hand stroked the old wolf's soft fur, scratching his favorite places along his back.

“What am I going to do, Dief?” Benton whispered. The white wolf looked up at his human, his amber shot eyes hopeful. “I know we will.” With a rough hand, Fraser began scratching between his ears. Fraser didn't hear the buzzing coming from his pocket at first. His cell had to begin playing _'Thirty-two Down on the Robert McKenzie'_ before it registered.

“Hello.” Fraser spoke, fumbling with the confounded device.

“Hey, Fraser, the tech lab guy, Drew, called me, he's got the address.” The Canadian scribbled the address on the palm of his hand as Ray told him. “I've got a patrol car sitting on Wm. Robert Devane's house and I'll pick you up in five minutes.” With that the lieutenant hung up.

“They've found the Explorer, Maggie.” Fraser grabbed his jacket and Stetson before heading for the door. By the time the two mounties hit the sidewalk outside the apartment building Ray pulled up in the Crown Vic. A stiff breeze off the lake drifted across Fraser's face as he held the door for Maggie. A storm was brewing somewhere to the north. Thunder was barely audible but the experienced mountie knew it would be a ferocious thunder storm when it arrived. That was fine with him, the weather suited his mood just fine.

_**801 Alderson St.** _

All along the neglected neighborhood street only a few streetlights worked. Cars with missing fenders, flat tires and multicolored paint jobs lined the pot-holed pavement. The nearly new, silver, Chevy Aveo stood out like a sore thumb sitting parked neatly a hundred yards from the location Drew had sussed out of the alarm company's system. Detective Midkiff sat in the small car, sipping coffee and watching the house. He saw the headlights of the former cop car cruising slowly toward him, the lights dimmed. The detective's phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Hello” Midkiff answered, his voice low. Stifling a yawn, the detective listened to his boss on the other end. “Alright, I'll alert the squad cars.” From all over the neighborhood blue and white units began showing up, creating a perimeter around the rundown rental house belonging to Wm. Robert Devane. A single light burned in the kitchen. Ray parked the re-purposed squad car and stepped out. He'd grabbed his Kevlar vest, as well as two spares from the trunk. He knew his friends were capable of taking care of themselves, but he didn't want to take any chances, especially not with Maggie's life.

“Ray, this is silly, I don't need this.” Maggie protested when he handed her the black, bulky vest. The lieutenant turned to look at her then at Fraser, who had already strapped his to his torso.

“Please, Maggie, this might become very dangerous.” She looked from her brother to her boyfriend and felt rather slighted and offended.

“Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I can't handle myself just as well as the two of you.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at each of them.

“It's not that at all, Mags, we care about you.” Ray pressed a kiss against her forehead and shoved the vest into her hands. She could see the concern in his blue eyes, which melted her heart, much to her annoyance. Once she'd put the vest on Ray took the lead on serving the warrant. A dozen officers sat parked around him, half of the paired units stood outside their cars, waiting on the lieutenants' orders. Ray knocked loudly, beating his fist against the faded door.

“Police, open up.” Kowalski's voice ran out all across the neighborhood. Eyes peeked out from windows all around, blinds opened slightly and curtains pulled back a little as the neighbors settled in to see what was happening. The evening's entertainment was on next door.

When the door didn't open, the officers were ordered to batter it down. Two, burly officer in black uniforms very similar to the Army's stepped up carrying a metal battering ram. It wasn't pretty but it was effective.

_**Inside...** _

Lunkhead saw the cop cars gathering as he looked out the back window. His heart began beating like a rock drum. When it came to fight or flight responses, Lunkhead chose flight every time. He grabbed the hand gun from the kitchen table and ran toward the garage.

“Hey, what's going on, who's there?” Ben's voice sounded tired and very young as he sat in the back of the Explorer in complete darkness. Hearing the boy, Lunkhead seized that opportunity to buy himself some safety.

“Hey there, kid, you're gonna be my ticket to freedom.” The kidnapper slid behind the wheel of the large SUV and fired up the engine.

“What's going on, what are you doing?” Quickly, Ben reached into his pocket and retrieved the pocketknife he always kept handy. The rotting clothesline cut easily as he sawed through the faded cotton.

“Better hold on, kid, we're goin for a ride.” Lunkhead backed the Explorer up quickly then he shoved it into drive and hit the gas. The metal garage door dented with a loud _**thunk.**_ It took Ben a second to realize what the guy had in mind, it seemed so ludicrous. A second ram at the garage door proved more successful; the metal enclosure blew out of the way like a wadded up tissue. Lunkhead drove over the metal and hit the surface street going entirely too fast. He didn't stop for the cops positioned outside the garage, he just gave the vehicle more gasoline and swerved to avoid them. Ben freed himself of the rope and hung onto the passenger seat from behind. Squirming into the seat from the back, he plopped his behind down in the seat and snapped the seat belt firmly closed.

“Havin fun yet, kid, I bet this is your first chase ain't it.” Lunkhead gripped the wheel like a maniac, ready for whatever the Chicago cops aimed to give him. Officers held their revolvers on the hoods of their cars, aiming at the fleeing vehicle.

“No, but this is the fastest one yet.” Ben answered, his fingers digging into the door handle as the vehicle sped down the street. When the boy saw his dad standing like a statue in the middle of the intersection he nearly choked. His white face and red, plaid shirt reflected in the vehicle's lights. “Dad!” Ben screamed. Lunkhead didn't slow down a bit, he seemed to aim the vehicle toward Fraser. Ben grabbed the wheel and jerked it with all his might to the right, away from his dad. The SUV hit a few parked cars but continued down the side street Ben had pulled them into. Lunkhead backhanded the boy with the pistol in his hand.

“Sit down, kid, or I'll drop your body off on the side of the road.” The intellectually challenged kidnapper's tone had taken a nasty turn. He snarled like a mean dog at Ben. The boy had never been so scared in his life. He'd ducked a few swats from his mother's associates, but Lunkhead meant to kill him and he knew it.

“How'd you get loose anyway, thought I tied you up good.” The kidnapper turned a hateful glare at him. Ben cowered in the seat as they sped through a busy traffic light, cop cars joining the pursuit from all sides.

“They'll use spike strips pretty soon, you'd better stop.” Ben remembered the high speed pursuit that his mother had been caught in as clearly as if it were yesterday.

“Ah, what would you know, you been watching too many cop shows.” The SUV sped up as more squad cars joined the chase. Lightning struck something in the distance, shaking the ground beneath them.

**Scene Break**

Benton heard the first impact and knew the kidnapper intended to bust out of the garage using the Ford Explorer. He heard one of the uniformed officers call out _'All clear'_ and took off down the street at a dead run toward the intersection. The mountie doubted the driver would run him over. It was a gamble, but he had to do something soon. A high speed pursuit that lasts too long is more likely to end up in either dangerous accidents involving the public or a stand-off with police. He knew that if the kidnapper felt he had nothing left to lose he'd kill Ben and commit suicide-by-cop. Benton didn't let his mind dwell on worst case scenarios, he charged ahead as he always did. He'd just found Ben, he couldn't lose him so soon.

“Benton, what are you doing?” Maggie called out, her heart in her throat as she watched her brother take his position in the center of the street. When the Explorer swerved just in time she thought she was going to be sick. Ray took off on foot, but by the time he saw the SUV it was out of range of his handgun. The lieutenant swore and ran back to his Crown Vic.

“All available units, we have a kidnapping suspect fleeing west down Dickenson street in a black, late model SUV. Suspect is armed and considered dangerous, a white, male, juvenile is being held in the vehicle, approach with caution.” Fraser made it into the passenger seat as Ray rolled up to the intersection, Maggie in the backseat with the dogs.

“That was a real dumb move, there Fraser, that took some serious nerve.” Ray commented, both hands on the wheel as he led the chase.

“He's my son, Ray.” That statement of fact settled the matter.

**Scene Break**

Ben racked his brain thinking of what to do. He was wholly unprepared for anything like this and dearly wanted to go back to his dad's apartment. Even the children's home looked inviting as he saw car lights whizzing by at a high rate of speed. Eventually the SUV barreled onto the interstate. Rain poured as if out of a bucket. Squad cars followed, at a distance. They'd been on the run for ten minutes and Ben knew that Lunkhead didn't have a plan. He knew he had to outsmart the kidnapper, after all, his mother was a convicted felon who'd evaded police for almost fifteen years and his dad was a commendation clad, Royal Canadian Mounted Police officer, as was his grandfather and aunt. He was genetically predisposed to be either extremely sneaky or incredibly smart-or both.

“Where are we going, they'll have state police waiting for us up ahead.” Ben reasoned, his voice shaking as he looked around for an off-ramp. The rain blurred the headlights of oncoming traffic. Ben could hear the boom of thunder as they traveled amongst traffic.

“I told you to shut up, kid, I'm havin enough trouble with this thing, I think one of the tires is goin flat.” In all the confusion, Ben hadn't heard the slapping rubber of the front tired deflating. Illinois state troopers cruised easily up beside the slowing vehicle. Ben knew he didn't have much time.

“If you let me go they won't go so hard on you, my dad will help you.” The boy began talking, hoping the mean streak he'd seen in Lunkhead wasn't as nasty as all that.

“I helped snatch a mountie's kid, there ain't no help for me, kid.” Fear crept into the man's voice as he began looking around. A semi ahead blocked the way and a cop car on each side hindered any sort of escape. Mud and muck made the whole windshield gritty. Lunkhead hit the brakes and then pulled the vehicle into the grassy median. Having higher ground clearance helped the Ford cross the deep rut. He's pulled the U-turn before the troopers could react. Their Crown Vic cruisers dragged the bottom out trying to follow, but follow they did. Other troopers waited on the opposite side as the struggling SUV headed back toward the city.

“You can tell them you were afraid of what your brother would do, you said you always took his orders, I'm sure the cops would work with you.” Ben tried again to reason with his captor. He felt sorry for the dumb cluck, still, he'd committed a crime, there was no getting around that.

“No matter what I do, Willie's gonna give me hell for it.” Lunkhead's weakening voice took on a whine as the vehicle's tire shredded. The rim began sparking a few rounds later.

“He'll only bully you as long as you let him.” Ben slipped his finger under the lock and unlatched it. If the vehicle slowed down enough he knew he could roll out. He hoped he wouldn't have to. A streak of lightning illuminated the night sky ahead of them, it's finger pointing like an accusation toward the kidnapper. Lunkhead dodged the loud boom and crackle.

“You don't know Willie, he locked me in that garage where you were for a week once cause I wrecked his bike.” Lunkhead let the vehicle come to a complete stop on the shoulder of the road. State troopers and Chicago PD surrounded the car. Cop cars shut down each end of the interstate on both sides, holding up traffic.

“Stand up to him, I've had to stand up to bullies my whole life, and believe me, Alaskan bullies have a lot more time to think up things to do to the new kid in school. They backed off when I fought back, you can too.” Ben unlatched the seat belt and tried to ease the car door open. Officers had their weapons drawn, ready to take a shot at the kidnapper. Ray too pulled his revolver. Fraser grabbed the radio and switched it to the public address system.

“Sir, this is Constable Benton Fraser of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police,” He heard a collective sigh as every officer on the force he'd ever encountered braced for the story of why he'd come to Chicago. “The boy you have is my son, Ben Metcalf, if you release him unharmed these officers will do you no harm, let the boy go, Mr. Devane.” Fraser's commanding, calm voice had the opposite effect on Lunkhead. The kidnapper gripped the gun and took hold of Ben by the front of his shirt.

“I don't believe you, Mountie!” Lunkhead shouted out of the car window.

“He's telling the truth, he doesn't bluff.” Ben tried to pull away but Lunkhead's grip only tightened and he pressed the gun to his head. An ear splitting crash of thunder made the whole police force duck as the stood watching the scene.

“We have two of the other kidnapper's already in custody, Mr. Devane, let the boy go, no one wants to harm you,” Fraser walked out from behind the Crown Vic's door, exposing himself. Dief snuck around the back of the cruiser and edged toward the SUV, his ears pinned to his head, white fur bristled on his neck and his fangs were bared. Ben saw Dief's white fur out of the corner of his eye and waved at the wolf to stand down. If surprised, he knew Lunkhead would pull the trigger.

“I'm the boy's father and I don't want to harm you, no one wants to harm you, Mr. Devane.” Fraser looked down at the worn boots he wore when not on duty and tried to think of something that would compel the kidnapper to turn Ben over safely. The rain had soaked his flannel shirt and plastered his short, dark hair to his head. Rivulets raced down his high cheeks and dropped off his chin. It was early summer but the water was cold as it ran down his shirt, soaking him to the bone. It wasn't as cold as the draft he felt every time he thought about how things had ended with Victoria. “I met Ben's mother for the first time many years ago, she was the wheel man for a gang of bank robbers who had stolen half a million dollars.” Ben heard his father tell the same tale, word for word, that he'd told at the consulate. He heard the same sadness in his voice as he sat leaned over the console of the Ford. Slowly, Lunkhead's grip on his shirt loosened as he listened to the mountie.

“I've never had the opportunity to tell Victoria how I feel for her, to get to know her really. If you take my son away from me I won't have that chance with him either.” Benton laid the radio on top of the car and walked toward the SUV. No one could see the tears welling up in his green eyes or the way his hands shook as he walked through the cluster of squad cars.

“That's a nice story, Mountie, but this kid is all I have between me and going to prison for a very long time.” Lunkhead pulled Ben closer, the gun's safety switched off. A boom of thunder silenced the kidnapper.

“If you kill him I will kill you, with my bare hands, Mr. Devane.” Fraser gritted his teeth as a streak of lightning lit up his face. He'd rarely felt the kind of raw aggression for another living soul before. The mountie could see the kidnapper's eyes searching for a way out, searching the hard eyes of the man standing just five feet away. The urge to reach out and drag the man from the vehicle was strong. Fraser's fists balled up at his sides as he planned his move. He couldn't let anything happen to Ben, he'd promised Victoria and he couldn't break another promise to her. It was a worse case scenario he hadn't wanted to think about. Ben saw the anger and desperation in his dad's eyes.

“Dad.” He mouthed before jerking the seat handle that let the back down. When Ben pulled backward Diefenbaker pounced on the kidnapper, his fangs sinking in to his arm up to the the gums, a menacing growl coming from deep within the terrifying animal. An officer grabbed Ben, dragging him out the back door to safety. The wolf clamped down until Lunkhead dropped the gun to the seat and began screaming in pain. Fraser grasped the other hand as the kidnapper begged to be turned loose.

“Fraser, tell Diefenbaker to let him go.” Maggie walked up to her brother as he held the man's arm captive. Dief stood in the seat waiting on his human to give him the okay to either eat the guy or release him. Fraser simply stared at the squirming kidnapper, tears still in his eyes.

“Ben is safe, Benton, you need to tell Diefenbaker to let go.” The lady mountie laid a soft hand on her bother's arm. “Ben is safe.” Turning, he saw the petite, blonde standing beside him and heard her soothing voice. Rain had pulled loose a few strands of her thick, soft hair, curling it as it clung to her cheek.

“Ben is safe?” Fraser released the kidnapper's arm and began searching the crowd for his son.

“Fraser, call the wolf off, okay, he's going to bleed to death before we can book him.” Ray spoke from the other side of his friend.

“Dad, I'm right here.” Ben called out as he walked back from a waiting ambulance, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Weak kneed, Benton rushed to close the gap between them. “I'm alright, Dad, I'm alright.” The boy reassured him as Fraser wrapped him in a tight embrace, his arms feeling like steel cables around his chest. Ben felt his dad's cheek rest against the top of his head as he let loose a little.

“You're safe.” Fraser took a deep breath and looked out into the crowd of first responders. Standing a few feet away he saw Robert Fraser watching the scene, tears threatening to mist in his old eyes as he watched his son and grandson.

“He's a good boy, Benton, he'll be just fine.” The old mounties' voice was strong, like the thunder vibrating all around them. It lingered in the air around him as he faded into the red and blue lights glowing everywhere within sight.

“Did you mean what you said, Dad?” Ben asked as Fraser finally pulled away.

“About what?” The mountie pulled his Stetson on slowly, looking off toward the ditch to let his tears fall.

“About getting to know me and Mom.” Ben let his dad put an arm around his shoulders as they walked back to the ambulance.

“Yes, Ben, I would like to have you stay with me so we can get acquainted.” The mountie smiled, glad the ordeal was over.

“Me too.” The boy grinned.

**Scene Break**


	20. Chinese For Lunch

 “Sure enough, this number belongs to Stonesbury, it's his home phone number in Juneau.” Ray tapped the note Fraser had taken the day before. The three professional investigators had found the link necessary to tie Stonesbury and Mark Gordon together. Wm. Robert Devane and his brother Jason, aka, Lunkhead, had sang like canaries when questioned about Stonesbury. The case was over and there was ample proof to convict all four kidnappers.

“That's great.” Maggie's broad satisfied grin made Ray's heart beat hard as he studied her for a moment.

“So, what's for lunch, Dad?” Ben asked, scratching Diefenbaker's head gently as he sat in the lieutenant's office.

“Lunch, ah, yes, what would you like?” The Mountie asked, looking at Ray and Maggie.

“Chinese.” They spoke in unison. Everyone in the office laughed.

“Then Chinese it is.” Benton collected his Stetson from the hat rack and led the way out of the squad room. A fresh breeze blew across the Mountie's face as he walked purposefully down the street, friends and family in tow. Diefenbaker and Aurora zigzagged all across the sidewalk, sniffing anything and everything, Dief hiking a leg to mark his territory. Ray and Maggie walked in the rear, their fingers lacing together.

“Dad, do you think you'll ever go back to Canada?” Ben asked as he crossed the street heading toward the Mountie's favorite restaurant.

“No, I don't suppose I will, Ben, why do you ask?” Fraser studied his son's expression as he waited on Ray and Maggie to cross the street.

“Because I like it here, in Chicago.” The boy shrugged, finally feeling as if he had a home and someone he could count on.

“As do I, Ben, as do I.” Fraser laid a strong hand on his son's shoulder for a moment. It wasn't a hug, but it might as well have been, Ben felt the connection anyway.

“Do you think they'll ever get married, Dad?” The boy grinned as he watched Ray wink at Maggie mischievously.

“Yes, very soon perhaps, Ray bought her a ring a few months ago, he hasn't told me specifically that he has, but what other use would he have for a diamond engagement ring?” Fraser spoke low, so as not to alert either of them.

“Maggie will probably say yes.” Ben observed, he hoped she would. He'd been around her long enough to know that Ray made her happy. The boy hoped that someday he would see his mother and father happy like that, even if it wasn't with each other.

“We'll call Victoria, um, your mother later today if you'd like.” Fraser offered, his train of thought parallel to Ben's.

“Yeah, I'd like to, she'll worry until she hears me for herself.” Ben stared down at his feet, wishing she weren't so far away.

“I spoke to her briefly last night, she sends her love.” The Mountie left it at what the boy needed to know for the time being.

Talking and walking, the group entered the small, Chinese restaurant and waited to be seated. The ancient lady who usually waited on Ray and Fraser was overwhelmed to see them with other people. Her eyes lit up behind her thick, Coke bottle glasses lenses.

“You brought whole family this time, good.” She pointed them toward a small dining area in the back where they could sit and spread out.

“Yes, Ma'am, I brought my sister and my son.” Fraser introduced the two, new members of their party with pride. He and Maggie both wore their red, serge uniforms while Ben wore jeans and a red t-shirt and Ray wore dress slacks and a button down shirt. It was an odd looking group, but Fraser considered them a family. He wished his father could be there to see them all together. Somehow he knew the old Mountie wasn't far away, just out of sight.

Waiters brought a feast to the table for the four patrons and fixed take-out for Dief and Aurora. Ray and Ben were the only two who requested flatware. Maggie and Benton maneuvered their chopsticks as deftly as any native Chinese ever could. Ben stared in amazement when he heard his dad order for them in Mandarin Chinese as easily as he could have in English.

“Wow, Dad, how many languages do you speak?” The boy asked, his green eyes wide in excitement and wonder. Fraser leaned forward, his brows knit momentarily in thought.

“Six and a few dialects of the indigenous tribes.” Ben looked at Ray as if to ask, “Is he for real?”

“Yeah, it's kinda like working with a walking Encyclopedia Britannica dressed in red sometimes.” The lieutenant just smiled and took another drink of his Dr. Pepper.

“I thought Aunt Maggie was the only one like that.” Ben teased, a twinkle in his green eyes.

“Hey, that's not fair, teaming up on me, help me out here, Benton.” She nudged her brother in the shoulder as she laughed. It felt good to have someone to banter with, besides Aurora.

“They do have a point, Maggie.” Fraser stated matter-of-factly.

“Apparently you haven't heard yourself lately, Benton Fraser.” Ray laughed out loud when Maggie turned the table on him.

_**After lunch...** _

“Maggie, would you take a ride with me tonight, after work?” Ray asked, dragging his feet so that he wouldn't be overheard. She looked up into his gray-blue eyes, puzzled at his mysterious attitude.

“Yes, what time should I expect you?” The lady Mountie felt Ray's hand go clammy in hers.

“How's seven sound, we can, uh, we can get some dinner and uh, we'll figure it out then, OK.” He tried not to stutter, a sure sign that he was nervous. Maggie just nodded.

“Ray, you'll be late, the commissioner is expecting you at one-thirty.” Fraser called from the opposite side of the street.

“Yeah, I'll be there.” Then he muttered a few unmentionable things the commissioner could do as he took Maggie's hand. He really felt chaffed, having to report his every move to someone who shuffled papers and kissed asses for a living. Ray didn't know how dirty the job would be when he took it. Lt. Welsh hadn't made a big deal of it when he retired. Sometimes Ray felt like hunting down his old boss and giving him a piece of his mind for leaving him to the wolves.

_**Scene Break** _

Fraser took the number out of his desk drawer and began dialing. Ben sat in the stiff, metal chair across the desk from his dad, eager to talk to his mother, despite being an oh-so-cool, fourteen year old boy.

“Yes, may I speak to Victoria Metcalf please?” The guard Fraser spoke to sounded unenthusiastic about his job as he put the Mountie on hold. Ten minutes later came the voice that had changed his life irrevocably.

“Benton.” Even with one word, she brought out a response in him that no woman ever had.

“Hello, Victoria, I have Ben with me and he would like to speak with you.” Fraser took a deep breath and kept his tone even. The boy took the phone eagerly, glad to be able to talk to her without a dozen kids running around.

“Hi, Mom, I'm here with Dad at the consulate.” He listened carefully, appreciating the trouble Benton had gone to to get her on the phone.

“Yeah, I call him Dad, we're getting along alright.” Ben rolled his eyes as he sat on the stiff chair, talking to his worried mother. “It was scary, but I knew Dad would come through for me, that's what he's good at right.” Fraser winced at his son's words. He hadn't been able to come through for Victoria. Still, together they'd done one thing right, and he was sitting before him, living and breathing. Robert Fraser's words from the previous night came back to him. “He's a good boy, Benton, he'll be just fine.” Lost in thought, Fraser didn't hear Ben at first.

“Dad, she wants to talk to you, I'm going to go talk to Turnbull, OK.” the boy handed the receiver to him and walked out, Diefenbaker following him.

“Yes, Victoria.” Benton took a deep breath and closed his eyes, imagining he could see her, feel her, with him.

“Benton, is he really alright, tell me the truth.” She asked softly. He could hear the sadness in her voice as he sat behind the desk, alone.

“Ben is fine, Victoria.” He wouldn't say that he was the one who came through it all on pins and needles.

“How are you, you sound different.” The connection was clear, Benton could imagine he heard her breathing softly on the other end of the line. He wanted to be able to see her, to look into her brown eyes with their green and gold flecks and to smell her subtle, flowered perfume.

“I am different, Victoria.” Benton spoke softly, his words truer than he knew. Ben had changed him. The Mountie had a whole new perspective to look out from.

“He made me different too, just not as much as he deserves.” A crack in her voice told him that she had been crying.

“I'd like it if Ben stayed with me here in Chicago, I'd like the opportunity to get to know him.” The Mountie thought back to his own childhood and the infrequent visits his father would make to his grandparents' house. He didn't want to be an absentee father.

“That would be great, Benton, I'm happy you feel that way, I'll sign whatever paperwork it takes, just send it to me.” Victoria put her hand over the phone but he could still hear the sob in her throat. As badly as he wanted to, Benton couldn't help her.

“I'll have it taken care of soon, Victoria,” Fraser hesitated, unsure of what to say exactly. He smoothed one eyebrow with his thumb as he let the words surface, “Victoria, I'm glad he,” He swallowed before proceeding, “I'm glad Ben is ours.” Benton's voice sounded stronger than he felt. The gap between them was like a jagged precipice he felt ever day.

“He's the best thing either of us ever did isn't he.” She chuckled.

“Yes, he is, Victoria.”

“Benton, they say I have to get off the phone, I'll call as soon as I can, tell Ben I love him.” Tears gathered in the Mountie's green eyes as he heard the dial tone.

“I love you.” The Mountie whispered to the dead phone in his hand.

On the other end of the line, in a gray cubicle Victoria sat in a metal folding chair, both hands covering her face as she sobbed. A bland faced, female guard set a box of tissues on the desk beside her and stepped back. She'd heard the cracking voice the inmate had said, “I love you, Benton.” in and couldn't hold her indifference any longer.

After a few minutes Victoria pulled herself together and sat up straight. She knew she couldn't be seen on the block with tears in her eyes. The other inmates would take her weakness and use it against her.

“I'm ready to go back.” She saw the guard nod and together they were released to go back to Victoria's cell. She lay down on her bunk and hid her face in the pillow, thinking of what might have been had she been the mother Ben deserved. All she had to give him now was her love and support.

**Scene Break**


	21. The Proposal

_**Seven o'clock....** _

Precisely on time, Ray pulled the freshly washed, waxed and detailed GTO up to Fraser's apartment building and put it into park. He then checked his reflection in the mirror for the dozenth time in an hour. Nervous, he pushed a fresh piece of gum in his mouth and opened the car door. The lieutenant had worn a suit and a tie, hoping to make the best impression he could, although he didn't know what for, he'd been dating Maggie for years. Knocking on the door he heard the thud of feet rushing to answer.

“Aunt Maggie, your date is here.” Ben sing songed as he threw open the door and let Ray in. The boy grinned like a little devil as Maggie snapped a dish towel at his behind for teasing her.

“Hello, Ray, you look very handsome tonight.” She smiled as she took him in from head to toe. The dark blue suit, baby blue dress shirt and champagne, colored silk tie suited the distinguished officer very well. He wore shined shoes and his tie was firmly in place.

“Nah, I look like a bum compared to you.” He eyed her, blown away at the sight of the lady mountie. She was as fit and trim as ever and the deep, cadet blue, silk dress she wore complimented her pale blue eyes. The modest V-neck and split, handkerchief sleeves showed off her shoulders and the cut of the A-line skirt hugged every curve perfectly. Her blonde locks had been pulled back in a half-ponytail and was adorned with a silver clip. Maggie had never looked lovelier to the man standing before her.

“Hey, Fraser, I'm gonna steal yer sister for the evening, that alright?” Ray didn't look away from the beautiful woman standing in front of him to talk to the mountie leaning against the door frame between the kitchen and the living room. Fraser just shook his head.

“Be careful this evening, Ray, drive carefully.” The ever vigilant mountie handed Maggie the navy blue shawl she'd laid on the loveseat for the evening.

“No worries, Fraser, I'll be driving precious cargo.” A dopey grin spread across his face as he offered her his arm, his eyes still never leaving her beautiful smile. She giggled like a school girl as they walked out the door.

_**Nyala ….** _

The maitre 'd seated the couple at a table along the outside of the the dance floor of the refurbished, art deco restaurant. A jazz band played old standards as a singer in a black, strapless dress crooned, her throaty voice carrying well in the auditorium sized space. _Nyala_ sparkled in tones of gold and bronze, a chandelier lighting the main dance floor as guests swayed easily to the love song being played on stage. Sconces of frosted glass on gold pedestals created a soft, romantic atmosphere. Hard wood floors gleamed from a fresh wax as waiters in black and white anticipated patrons' every need.

“Your waiter will be with you momentarily.” The maitre'd spoke with a quick, clipped voice, then left them to sit at the white, damask clad table for two.

“I thought I'd take you somewhere nice for a change, Maggie.” Ray couldn't believe he was sitting with such a beautiful woman. He'd been drawn to her the first time he'd seen her, her bright, blue eyes and easy confidence. Their first kiss had left him wanting one every day for the rest of his life.

“You know I just like spending time with you, Ray, you didn't have to go all out for me.” Maggie squeezed his hand tightly for a moment, shaking her head at him like the silly boy he was underneath.

“But I wanted to, Maggie, I always want to go all out for you, everyday.” He took her hand in both of his. “I was going to wait until after we'd had dinner, but I don't think I can,” Ray pulled out the Canadian red, velvet box he'd been dreaming of giving her for months. “Maggie, will you marry me?” The sound she made was somewhere between a gasp and a hiccup. She looked down at the simple, platinum ring with the inset diamond and tears fell from her eyes. All she could do was nod and try not to wipe what little make-up she wore off.

“That's a yes then?” He had to ask, unsure if it was reality or a dream.

“Yes, Ray Kowalski, I'll marry you.” Maggie leaned over and kissed him, her heart beating furiously. He slipped the ring on her left ring finger clumsily. Ray felt like a teenager again as she laughed.

“I love you, Maggie.” The cop couldn't find any better way to say it but those three words.

“I love you too, Ray, and it's about time you proposed, I've been waiting too damn long.” She laid one hand along his cheek and looked deep into his eyes. Maggie wanted to look into those eyes for the rest of her life.

_**Midnight ….** _

Fraser stood looking out the third floor window, a cup of tea in his hand and his head leaned against the window frame. A street light below cast a yellow light around the shining, black muscle car Ray drove on special occasions. It was his pride and joy. He and Maggie had been sitting in the car for the last half hour, the motor turned off. By the way his friend looked at Maggie, Fraser suspected Ray had finally nerved up and asked her to marry him. He hoped she'd said yes. Diefenbaker, the ever present, ever nosy wolf stood up on his hind legs, his front paws on the sill, to see what his human saw.

“She'll be quite happy with Ray, I wish them both the best.” Fraser looked down in to his constant companion's amber shot eyes for a moment. The wolf groaned.

“Yes, I hope she stays in Chicago, it's not like I'd be welcomed back with open arms, after all, I was the one who exposed the damage the dam was doing to the caribou herds.” Fraser sipped his tea, tasting the rich, berry flavor on his tongue. The wolf snorted quietly and slid down to all fours again. Ben tossed in his sleep, his dad's voice rousing him just a fraction.

“I'll have to find a two bedroom apartment soon, he should have a room of his own.” Benton thought to himself as he walked over to the couch and adjusted his son's quilt. He sat on the floor for a while, waiting on Maggie to walk upstairs and thinking about the last few days. Almost losing Ben made the mountie's heart tighten just thinking about it.

“I felt the same way when I heard you were shaving for the first time, son.” Robert Fraser spoke from out of the darkness, his voice clear and steady.

“Dad, you weren't losing me.” Benton spoke in a hoarse whisper as the apparition took a seat beside him against the living room wall.

“It wasn't immediate peril, but I did eventually lose the little boy I'd left with his grandparents, you became a person in your own right, it seemed like I was looking at a shadow of my little boy in the grown man you were turning into.” The old mountie talked with his hands, not looking at Benton or Ben.

“I can only imagine how you felt about missing Maggie's childhood all together, at least I get to have Ben from fourteen on.” Benton observed, glad he had those precious years ahead of them.

“You've already been a better father than I ever was, Benton, you'll do just fine from here on out, Son.” Fraser turned to respond to his father and he was gone. The sound of a key in the door brought him back to reality. Maggie held her high heeled shoes in her hand, her keys in the other. A radiant smile spread infectiously across her face.

“Is every one asleep in here?” Ray asked, tip toeing into the apartment.

“Hello.” Fraser whispered loudly as he stood up from his seat on the floor. Maggie grinned, giddy with recent events. Benton led the way to the kitchen and turned on the light. The first thing he saw was Maggie's left hand and the glittering engagement ring nestled there.

“He finally asked me to marry him.” RCMP officer or not, Maggie bounced like every other happy female as she stood in the kitchen looking from an equally giddy Ray to an elated Benton.

“I don't know if I should ask you to be the best man, who'll give her away, right?” Ray asked, his eyes kinda glazed from being tired and very happy.

“We have plenty of time to figure it out later.” Maggie waved the question away. She already knew the answer, Benton would walk her down the aisle and Ben would be one of the groomsmen. Maggie didn't care if they flew off to Vegas to get married.

“Congratulations, Aunt Maggie.” Ben said as he took a seat at the kitchen table, his green eyes full of sleep.

“Thank you kindly, Ben.” She ruffled his brown locks with her fingers. The boy just shrugged.

“Do I smell coffee?” He asked, hoping to get a cup of the caffeinated joy juice.

“No!” All the adults spoke in unison.

“Could I smell coffee?” He looked from one adult to the next, but none of them relented.

“Go on to bed, Ben, sleep tight.” Fraser nudged the teen back to his bed on the couch and made sure he laid down.

“I guess that's my cue to leave, I'll see you tomorrow, Mags.” Ray took her hands in his and leaned in for a kiss. “Fraser, turn around.” Ray ordered.

“Yes, Ray.” Obedient, the mountie faced the opposite direction while Ray took Maggie in his arms and gave her a breathtaking kiss good night. After a moment Fraser turned back around. Grinning, Maggie ordered him to turn around again.

“Good night, Maggie,” Ray walked softly to the door as she stood beneath the overhead light, glowing with happiness. He winked at her before closing the door. Fraser watched the scene with a sadness he couldn't name. The mountie said goodnight to his sister, then laid his tired bones down on the sleeping bag to rest with the old ghosts in whose company he'd spent too much time.

_Love is a blessing to some and a cruelty to others. We live to give and receive, hoping to see kindness in another's eyes meant for us, if only for a fleeting moment. ~Anonymous._

**The End**    


End file.
